















(lass _T’. /Lx. - 

Boo k . J 2- A 5 

fa^yrighf'N 0 Ek 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 





































































■ 


















. 



























' 



























- 






* 







































ELLA’S TREASURE 


A STORY OF TWO CONTINENTS 


DEDICATED TO THE 

CHRISTIAN YOUNG PEOPLE OF AMERICA 



ROCK ISLAND, ILLINOIS 
AUGUSTANA BOOK CONCERN 



Copyright, 1924 

BY 

Augustana Book Concern 


Printed in the United States of America. 


»>' 





AUGUSTANA BOOK CONCERN. PRINTERS AND BINDER-* 
ROCK ISLAND. ILLINOIS 
1924 


©C1A808713 

NOV -6 *24 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Without God in the World. 7 

II. Dark Memories . 10 

III. Kiln Point . 22 

IV. “The God of Her Salvation”. 26 

V. “Jehovah will be thine everlasting light, and the 

days of thy mourning shall be ended”. 42 

VI. “Blessed is he that considereth the poor: Jehovah 

will deliver him in the day of evil”. 48 

VII. The Day of Evil . 54 

VIII. “The Fruit of Her Hands”. 62 

IX. Crown for Crown . 84 

X. Old John Ponders . 107 

XI. Friends of Bygone Days . 113 

XII. The Results of a Misadventure. 132 

XIII. Regina von Bielertz’s Diary .*. 137 

XIV. Ragnhild’s Last Will and Testament. 156 

XV. Ella Gets Her Way, and Stops Crying. 162 

XVI. Ella’s Treasure . 171 


» 























































































CHAPTER ONE 
“Without God in the World” 

A bright, glorious day in May was nearing its end. 
The sun was gently sinking to rest in the glowing west. 
Within the twilight of the woods deep silence reigned, 
unbroken even by the forces of nature mightily at work 
to call forth new, rich forms of life from the stirring 
bosom of the earth warmed and softened by the sunshine 
and showers of advancing spring. The lofty tree tops 
w T ere yet basking in the last rays of the setting sun, and 
from their topmost branches a thrush here and there was 
singing its vesper song to the departing day. 

A broad highway wound its length between the woods 
on the right and jutting rocks on the left amidst which 
sturdy clusters of wintergreen grew in rich profusion. 
Gnarled roots and massive bowlders were covered with 
moss of many hues revealed by the adventurous rays of 
the sun that had found their way through the labyrinth 
of branches overhead. A few small lambs of snowy 
whiteness were eagerly nibbling the sprouting grass along 
the edge of the ditch by the roadside, now and then break¬ 
ing the silence by their plaintive bleating. 

7 







8 


Ella’s Treasure 


It was one of those sweet, fragrant spring evenings that 
linger pleasantly in our memory, and attune our minds to 
thoughts of gratitude to God, the giver of every good 
thing in nature and in life. 

But to all this the lone woman gave no thought as she 
hurried along the winding path in the woods, her eyes 
staring unheedingly before her, as if she wished to shut 
out the sight of these evidences of God’s goodness and 
love. 

To judge from her dress, which was neat but faded 
and threadbare, she was in straightened circumstances, 
although a certain dignity of bearing seemed to bear wit¬ 
ness of innate refinement and breeding. Her age might 
be in the neighborhood of thirty years, and sorrow rather 
than years had plowed deep furrows in her brow. 

The expression in her features and in her fine dark 
brown eyes was hard and defiant, and bitterness played 
about her tightly compressed lips. 

Her set, defiant face seemed to fling a challenge to the 
world at large, as if to say: If the world has been cruel 
and harsh toward me, I will repay it in kind. Though 
added burdens of sorrow are in store for me, I will not 
tamely bend my back. 

By this time the woman had reached the highway. 
Before her an avenue leading up to the ironworks and 
manor house of North River made a wide opening in the 
woods. She crossed the highway and took a few steps 
along the avenue. Then she stopped and leaned her head 
wearily against the gray stem of an old fir. Her hard 
features softened, and a look of pathos crept into her eyes 
as she stood gazing upon the surprisingly beautiful vistas 
spread out before her. But the view contained no element 
of surprise to her. Many a time before had her eyes 


Ella’s Treasure 9 

feasted upon the palatial manor house with its ancient 
aristocratic exterior and its evidences of modern comfort 
and luxury. Behind the mansion and its spacious park¬ 
like grounds could be seen the broad expanse of a lake 
dotted with islets that seemed to float lightly upon its 
glittering surface. In the broad valley to the left, where 
the gentle murmur of a brook vainly vied with the thunder¬ 
ous beat of the hammers in the steel mill, the smokestacks 
of the foundry towered high above the trees of the neigh¬ 
boring forest. Farther off the harsh, shrill song of a saw¬ 
mill was wafted in softer accents to the listener’s ears. 
The entire valley spoke loudly of restless activity, just as 
restless as the surging thoughts and memories that seethed 
in the mind of the lonely woman looking out upon the 
scene before her. 

How many a time had she, Marie of Great Meadows, 
known as the prettiest and richest girl in the district, 
traversed the grounds and forests of this wide domain 
accompanied by hosts of admiring friends! 

On yonder point jutting out into the lake stood the 
venerable old parish church with its steep-pitched roof 
and its towering spire. The sight of it called forth the 
memory of a day when she, myrtle cowned and arrayed 
in bridal veil, had w T alked proud as a queen up the central 
aisle to the altar, where she had spoken vows of love and 
fidelity in joy and sorrow, in prosperity and adversity. 
How utterly empty and meaningless those vows now 
seemed! 

The ancient fir under which she now stood had many 
a time beheld her in the pride and beauty of early girl¬ 
hood and womanhood envied and admired by all, the cy¬ 
nosure of all eyes. Now she stood there alone and forgot- 


IO Ella’s Treasure 

ten, poor and forsaken, friends and happiness alike lost to 

her. 

The saddest thought of all—without God in this hard 
and cruel world! 


CHAPTER TWO 
Dark Memories. 

For a long time Marie stood contemplating the view 
before her. She knew every winding path, every gnarled 
root, every open glade in the woods, every bend in the 
mountain stream, every rock washed by its turbulent 
waters—all were as familiar to her as her own features, 
all had thrilled her heart anew with every coming spring 
ever since she was a little girl pattering along at her 
mother’s side to yonder parish church. 

Everything was as beautiful and bright as it always had 
been—everything but her poor lonely self. With kaleido¬ 
scopic vividness and rapidity her whole life passed in re¬ 
view before her mind’s eye. Long forgotten incidents 
and events recurred to her with startling clearness, until 
her heart ached and her eyes smarted with the briny 
tears that she vainly tried to wipe away. 

She saw herself as a self-willed and indulged child of 
wealthy parents, Magistrate Carl Clarkson and his wife 
Anna Marie of Great Meadows, who had the reputation 
of being just as rich in pride as in goods and property. 

Then she saw herself budding into young womanhood, 
tall of figure and fair of features, with sparkling dark 
brown eyes and cheeks like the glow of early morning. 
How well she remembered the pride she had felt when she 
attracted more admirers than her pretty sister Agnes, with 


Ella’s Treasure i i 

whom she had never been able to live in peace and con¬ 
cord ! 

Again she saw the throng of young men from far and 
near who had been attracted by her beauty, her sparkling 
wit, and, it must be confessed, by her great expectations 
of wealth and position. With almost brutal frankness she 
had given them all to understand that their prospects were 
small indeed of winning the heart and hand of such a girl 
as Marie of Great Meadows. 

With anguished heart she recalled the manly face and 
figure of one youth who would never have ventured to 
approach her, had not her feminine arts lured him on. 
And when he put his hopes and his all to the test, how 
heartlessly had she not trampled upon his loyalty and his 
love! She rejected him because the riches he had to be¬ 
stow on her consisted, not in gold and position, but only 
in a noble, faithful heart, and sturdy, capable hands. 

How vain and foolish she had been! Rather had she 
surrendered the warmth and sunshine of a faithful love 
than her dreams of wealth and station in life. 

In her folly she had reasoned then that her beauty and 
her talents must not be buried in the simple round of 
duties of a humble home, where she would be outranked 
by her sister and her friends, over whom she had queened 
it so haughtily. Proudly she had determined that of all 
the women in the district she would yield precedence to 
none with the possible exception of Baroness von Bielertz 
of North River Manor. 

In consequence of this determination she had at last 
without hesitation given her hand to Henry Bernard, the 
proud owner of stately Elmwood. Henry was a man 
whom she neither loved nor respected, but whose beauti¬ 
ful estate and broad acres had won her heart. Well she 


12 


Ella’s Treasure 


realized that it did not compare with North River Manor, 
and that she could not hope to rival the baroness, but she 
would far outstrip all other rivals in wealth and station. 
Her husband’s vacillating character assured her of abso¬ 
lute sway in her own home. 

One of the reasons for her hasty resolve to marry was 
that she no longer felt at ease in the home of her child¬ 
hood. Her sister Agnes had married a childless, wealthy 
widower, who after the death of her father had assumed 
the management of Great Meadows, and she soon discov¬ 
ered that it would be impossible for her to endure the 
domineering control of her sister Agnes in the home where 
she, the self-willed Marie, before had ruled supreme. She 
therefore regarded it as a great personal triumph when 
she could display the beauties and advantages of her own 
home to her secretly envious sister. 

At Elmwood Marie fondly believed that her happiness 
was assured for all time to come. Here her vanity re¬ 
ceived its full meed of adulation. Here her rule was 
unquestioned, not only by dependents, but also by her dot¬ 
ing husband, who greatly admired his pretty wife, and 
never ventured to cross her will. For this she secretly 
despised her husband, and used his wealth only as a means 
to further her social ambitions. Not content with being 
an honored member of the respectable middle class, she 
exerted all her skill to gain admission into the exclusive 
circle of the gentry. 

But this was far from being an easy matter. Despite 
his wealth, her husband was rustic and unpolished in his 
manner. The atmosphere of the farm clung to him as 
the soil to his boots. Therefore Marie determined that 
her husband must become a merchant and thus rise to a 
higher position in the social scale. 


Ella’s Treasure 


13 

With her customary vigor and resolution Marie 
brought about this change and henceforth the young cou¬ 
ple at Elmwood assumed the name of their country place 
and came to be known as Mr. and Mrs. Elmwood. 
Marie at once began a campaign of conquest where costly 
dinners and fashionable receptions played an important 
part. 

Toward her sister she now began to assume an air of 
lofty condescension that caused the former’s blood to boil 
with anger and wounded pride. The thrifty mistress of 
Great Meadows warned her sister of the dire results of 
her extravagance, but all such warnings were received 
with a smile of superiority, and dismissed as being 
prompted by envy alone. 

But the day dawned when Marie was to experience the 
truth of the saying, “Pride goeth before a fall.” If her 
life had hitherto been, outwardly at least, a flower-strewn 
path, it now became a thorny path, indeed, that plunged 
her into the depths of misery and despair. 

Her husband wholly lacked the ability to carry on suc¬ 
cessfully the various intricate business enterprises upon 
which he had launched; nor had he the firmness neces¬ 
sary to stem the tide of extravagance which was bearing 
him irresistibly onward to financial ruin. To escape un¬ 
pleasant scenes he kept his impending insolvency a deep 
secret from his wife. With utmost secrecy he converted 
into money the poor remnants of his once large estate, 
and then one night he absconded without giving his wife 
the least intimation of his future plans or destination. 

This blow fell with crushing effect upon Marie. She 
shrewdly suspected that financial difficulties were the 
cause of her husband’s sudden flight. These suspicions 
were promptlv verified when in one fell swoop adversity 


Ella’s Treasure 


14 

descended upon her, sweeping away all that she had 
prized most in life, and leaving her with her three little 
girls utterly impoverished and defenseless. 

What was she to do now? Her relations with her 
sister Agnes had never been cordial. From earliest child¬ 
hood a bitter rivalry had existed between them who 
should have been united by bonds of sisterly love and 
sympathy. Least of all would her still unbroken pride 
permit Marie to turn to her sister for help in her adver¬ 
sity. 

But partly for the sake of public opinion and partly 
from a reluctant sense of duty, Agnes desired to appear 
generous and magnanimous. She induced her husband 
to provide a yearly sum sufficient for the rental of two 
small rooms. “As for the rest,” she said, “Marie must 
earn her own living. She is young and strong, and it is 
high time for her to learn the blessedness of honest labor 
instead of continuing in her attempts to play the part of 
a grand lady.” 

Yes, Marie realized that she must find employment. 
But what should she do? Aside from cooking, which 
she had learned from her mother, fine sewing was her 
only accomplishment. Pride and expediency alike caused 
her to decide upon sewing as a means of livelihood. But 
she found it no easy matter to support herself and her three 
children by this means, especially in the rural districts 
where the earnings of a seamstress were small indeed. 
Early and late she labored to provide food and clothing 
for her little ones, and smarting eyes and hollow cheeks 
bore witness of the desperate nature of her efforts. Pov¬ 
erty and want stared her in the face, anguish filled her 
heart and tears dimmed here eyes, but her proud nature 


Ella’s Treasure 


i5 

remained unbroken, and she presented a defiant front to a 
cruel and unfeeling world. 

There was One, however, whose heart went out with 
loving sympathy for the poor woman, namely He before 
whose eyes all things are naked and laid open. But Marie 
did not know Him. To her He was the unknown God 
whose helping hand she thrust aside, and whose knocking 
at the door of her heart she left unheeded. Weighed 
down by misfortune as she was, the thought of God’s love 
served only to harden her heart, and His Word served no 
other purpose than to furnish texts for sermons that made 
no appeal to her, because she could not think of God as a 
living and present God, who interfered in behalf of His 
poor, suffering children here below. 

Jesus, “The Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of 
the world,” had once occupied a place in a gilded frame 
on a wall of her former home, but there had never been 
any room for Him in her heart. Therefore she continued 
on her dark and weary way without God, without hope. 
She considered herself forsaken by God and man, never 
stopping to realize that her own proud nature had erected 
a barrier between herself and the love and sympathy of 
God and her fellow men. If her self-will and sinful 
pride were to be humbled, God must needs employ sterner 
measures to accomplish this. 

Her youngest daughter, little Rosa, was the darling of 
her mother’s heart. One day it was discovered that she 
had been seized with scarlet fever then prevalent in the 
neighborhood. Already many a loving mother was shed¬ 
ding tears of bereavement upon the new-made graves of 
dear ones in the churchyard near the shores of the lake. 

For several days Marie fought for the life of her little 
darling, and at last death seemed to acknowledge defeat. 


16 Ella’s Treasure 

A sudden turn in the sickness gave promise of convales¬ 
cence. The mother wiped away her tears and began to 
hope. 

But her bitter cup of sorrow was not yet full. Through 
the sickness of Rosa and her oldest sister Vera the 
mother’s slender resources were completely exhausted, 
proper nourishment was lacking to restore the strength of 
her dear ones. Especially did it tear the mother’s heart 
to hear little Rosa vainly calling for milk, of which there 
was no supply. Marie was still too proud to beg, or to 
reveal to the world her dire necessity. 

As a result, Rosa suffered a sudden relapse. In despair 
the frantic mother swallowed her pride and rushed to a 
neighbor, pleading for a cup of milk. This she promptly 
received, but when she got home she found that help had 
come too late. The Good Shepherd had come to carry 
home His little Lamb in His arms. Little Rosa had been 
transplanted in better soil, but her despairing mother 
thought of her only as dead and lost to her forever. 

Marie was inconsolable. All other trials were as noth¬ 
ing in comparison with this bitter blow. Had God sent 
this sorrow upon her? How then could He be the God 
of love? 

Or was it a punishment for her sin? If so, what par¬ 
ticular sin had she committed to merit punishment so se¬ 
vere? In her days of prosperity had she ever turned the 
poor and needy away from her door? Had she not rather 
sought them out and supplied their wants with lavish 
hand? Why then should this affliction befall her? 

Alas for her proud heart! It was impossible for her 
to see that she had been sufficient unto herself, and had 
gone her own way without thought of God or the need of 
His loving guidance. 


Ella’s Treasure 


17 

If she only had a single true friend to whom she might 
now turn! Had her mother lived she would have known 
how to cheer and comfort her. But death had long since 
deprived her of a mother whose unwise indulgence had 
done much to spoil her favorite child. Perhaps her sister 
would come to her aid. She would flee to Agnes and 
implore her forgiveness for past offenses. Perhaps some 
crumbs of the abundance in her childhood’s home would 
fall to her lot. Surely Agnes would not slam the door 
in her face. She might even supply a bereaved mother 
with a little white shroud with which to deck Rosa for 
her last sleep. 

For Marie to resolve was to act. She left her two little 
girls and her dead Rosa in the care of a neighbor woman 
and started off on foot for her distant home. She gave 
no thought to her faded dress and shabby shoes. An irre¬ 
sistible yearning drew her onward to the dear home of 
her childhood, within which she had not set her foot since 
her husband left her a destitute and forsaken woman three 
years ago. 

The large two-story building with its handsome trim¬ 
mings and pretty grounds was just as she remembered it 
from by-gone days. The windows stood open, and the 
curtains fluttered gently in the spring breeze, as if to 
beckon her and bid her welcome home. The old oak still 
cast its shade over the house, and the two weeping birches 
still stood sentinel one on each side of the main entrance. 
The cherry trees were decked in pure white, and the 
sanded path along which she was hurrying was bordered 
with dainty spring flowers that seemed to join with the 
thrush in the top of the oak in sending her a joyous greet¬ 
ing. 

Would Agnes also have a word of welcome for her 

Ella’s Treasure. 2. 


Ella’s Treasure 


18 

sorrowing and penitent sister? So Marie asked herself 
anxiously, as she turned the knob of the kitchen door and 
hesitatingly entered in. 

The mistress of the house and her maids were busily 
engaged in baking. The fire from the open hearth was re¬ 
flected from the brightly polished copper and tin ware 
arranged along the shelves fastened to the kitchen walls. 

So busily occupied was Agnes that several minutes 
elapsed before she became aware of her sister’s presence. 
When the mistress of Great Meadows did observe her, 
Marie was destined to drain the last bitter dregs in her 
cup of sorrow. The reception accorded Marie by her 
sister and brother-in-law was of the coolest. It was ap¬ 
parent that they had neither forgotten nor forgiven the 
slights they had suffered at the hands of the proud mis¬ 
tress of Elmwood. Biting words and stinging allusions 
were showered upon her. She was repeatedly reminded 
of their munificence in bestowing on her the annuity nec¬ 
essary to pay the rent for her humble home, and this 
without any hope or expectation of ever being repaid. 

Marie’s arrival also caused an annoying interruption in 
the pressing work of kitchen and pantry that day. A 
great dinner party was to be held at Great Meadows in 
honor of their only son, whose tenth birthday anniver¬ 
sary was to be celebrated with lavish display. All the 
notables of the neighborhood were invited, and the fond 
mother hoped that the feast she was providing would be 
the talk of the district for weeks and months to come. 

The son was a robust, handsome boy of lively disposi¬ 
tion, and thoroughly spoiled by his doting parents, over 
whom he lorded it as a tyrant. 

Having overheard the words of his elders, this spoiled 
child now gave his aunt to understand that her presence in 


Ella’s Treasure 19 

the house at this time would be a disgrace to himself and 
his parents, and was therefore not to be thought of. 

There they stood confronting each other, the woman 
of twenty-eight and the boy of ten, so like each other in 
appearance and temperament that they might well have 
been taken for mother and son, pride and anger flashing 
from two pairs of dark brown eyes. 

“You are the very picture of what I once was!” Marie 
cried. “But the hand of God has laid hold on me and 
punished me for my pride. Some day God will also pun¬ 
ish you more severely, perhaps, than he has punished me.” 

Then turning to her sister Agnes, she continued: “And 
you, Agnes, who laugh at your son when he tramples upon 
the feelings of your poor sister, if there is a righteous God 
in heaven, you will have more of sorrow than of joy in 
your child. An now I take heaven and earth to witness 
that my foot shall never again cross your threshold, nor 
will I ever again accept so much as a drink of water un¬ 
der this roof. Here also I fling at your feet the pittance 
you gave me to help defray the expenses of my poor little 
Rosa’s burial. Take it and give it to your son as a reward 
for the fidelity with which he has interpreted the feelings 
of his parents toward a crushed and despairing kins¬ 
woman. Farewell for ever!” 

With flashing eyes and burning cheeks she stood before 
her relatives as an avenging Nemesis. Pale as death, Ag¬ 
nes used her best efforts to persuade her sister to stay 
over night at least. In the morning, she promised, they 
would take her home in the carriage. They would sup¬ 
ply her with a basket of food for her children, and would 
also furnish a suitable shroud for poor little Rosa. 

“Not another minute will I stay here,” Marie declared 
in a voice of icy coldness. “Never again will I enter this 


20 


Ella’s Treasure 


place which was once my home, but which this day has 
witnessed the last ties of love and kinship severed and 
trampled under foot. I pity you, if God one day deals 
with you as you have dealt with me.” 

With these terrible words Marie vanished through the 
door, leaving her relatives mute and stricken. With lag¬ 
ging steps she proceeded along the way uniting two homes, 
neither of which had anything but sorrow to offer her. 
Gladly would she have eased her heart pain by giving vent 
to loud lamentations, but she had learned to control her 
wounded feelings and repress her anguish, though her 
heart was near to bursting. 

So this was the end of her hopes! Whither should she 
now turn for help and consolation ? Musing thus despair¬ 
ingly, she became aware of tripping steps approaching, and 
of a child’s voice calling to her: 

“Auntie, Auntie! Forgive me—come back! Dear, 
dear Auntie, come back to us! Forgive me, or I will 
never have another happy day! O Auntie, come!” 

The anguished words reached her ears, but she did not 
pause to behold the sorrowful face and the tear-dimmed 
eyes of the pleading boy. Hardening her heart, she pro¬ 
ceeded on her way as if she had neither seen nor heard 
him. 

“Auntie, dear Auntie, forgive me. I was a naughty 
and wicked boy, but I will never treat you so again, if 
you will only forgive me, and mama, and papa, and come 
back with me now. Do come, Auntie!” 

But Marie was deaf to his pleadings, and continued on 
her way until she could no longer hear the heart-rending 
sobs of her little nephew. But she could not hinder their 
echo from resounding in her heart as she passed well- 
known landmarks about which the tenderest memories of 


Ella’s Treasure 


21 


her childhood clustered, but which now only added to the 
bitterness of her despair. 

But she must not dwell on these memories of former 
days, nor loiter on the w~ay. The red disk of the sun was 
rapidly sinking toward the horizon in the west, and as 
yet she did not know where she would find a place to rest 
her tired limbs for the night. She must make haste to 
reach a place where no one knew her, and where she 
might weep out her grief unseen. 

Poor Marie, she dared not hope that God would guide 
her to a friendly haven. She felt that God’s anger rested 
heavily upon her, and that she had less of mercy to expect 
from Him than from her fellow men. Had she only 
known it, she would have been cheered by the thought that 
the all-seeing eyes of God were upon her, that they fol¬ 
lowed this poor, bleeding sheep lost in the wilderness, and 
that the Shepherd’s loving arms were already extended to 
save and rescue her. 

But of this Marie had no knowledge, as she trudged 
wearily along, plunged in dark, brooding thoughts. The 
fragrance of the forest assailed her, the songs of thrushes 
were borne upon the evening breeze to her ears; but all 
the beauties of nature only served to lend added weight to 
the burden of anguish and hopelessness that filled her soul. 


22 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER THREE 
Kiln Point. 

The highway along which Marie was walking made a 
sudden turn round a steep bluff overgrown with towering 
pines. As Marie made the turn, she stopped amazed and 
thrilled by the magnificent view that opened up before 
her, bathed in the rays of the setting sun. 

The swift stream, whose deep bass blended musically 
with the happy spring songs of the forest in the neigh¬ 
borhood of the ironworks, here bridled its turbulence after 
having plunged over the falls into a deep, broad basin, 
where it continued on its way as calm and serene as it 
before had been noisy and riotous. 

Some rods beyond the highway it flowed round a point 
of land covered with pine trees fringed by birches and 
elms on the side facing the. stream. This point of land 
was locally known as Kiln Point from the ruins of an 
ancient kiln which had occupied the extreme point for 
hundreds of years. Only a trace of the kiln now remained, 
but in the center of the point where the trees had been 
removed now stood a new-built cottage, whose yellow 
boards were as yet innocent of paint, but in whose open 
windows snow-white curtains fluttered in the evening 
breeze. The solemn pines, the elms and birches of lighter 
hue, the sparkling river that girdled the point, all these 
presented a picture so attractive that the lonely wanderer 
on the highway was aroused from her gloomy reveries, 
and paused to feast her eyes upon the scene. 

How well she knew the place and the legends -of 
ghosts and witchcraft that clustered about the ancient 


Ella’s Treasure 


23 

kiln. Farther up the point could still be seen half-buried 
stones from the foundation of a cottage long since fallen 
to ruins and removed. According to local tradition this 
cottage had been occupied by an old woman whose name 
was Ella, and who was known and feared throughout the 
district as a witch of evil repute. 

On black and stormy nights many a wayfarer had seen 
the glimmer of a light flitting from place to place at this 
point, and the old people said with a shake of the head 
that it was old Ella who was out again hunting for hidden 
treasure. 

Marie well remembered how frightened she had been 
when she had to pass this place after dark, momentarily 
expecting to catch a glimpse of Ella and her flickering 
lantern. But now Kiln Point no longer seemed haunted 
by ghosts and witches. From her position on the highway 
under the bluff it appeared to Marie a veritable fairyland. 

“Surely,” she thought, “those who have braved the 
superstitions of the place, and have created for themselves 
a little paradise here, must be happy people, and at peace 
with all the world.” 

The tramping of a horse and the grinding of wheels 
suddenly aroused Marie from her reveries. 

“Who lives here?” she abruptly asked the boy driving 
the cart. 

“Otto Leander,” replied the boy. “He has bought the 
Point from John Flood of Floodhurst, and built the cot¬ 
tage yonder.” 

“What is the place called now?” Marie inquired. 

“O, people still call it Kiln Point, but I have heard 
that the baroness wants it to be known as Fair Point,” the 
boy informed her, shaking the reins to start his horse. 

Marie lingered as if she found it impossible to tear her 


Ella’s Treasure 


24 

gaze from the neat little cottage on the Point. Her 
cheeks grew paler, and her breast heaved with sudden 
emotion. 

So this was the home that Otto Leander and his wife 
Gertrude had built for themselves through their thrift 
and the blessing of God! 

Memories that would not be denied again flooded her 
soul. How often had she not aroused the merriment of 
her friends of former days by ridiculing these “homemade 
saints,” these solemn pietists, who only made themselves 
absurd by wanting to appear to be better than their fellow 
men! 

Otto Leander she had never been able to endure since 
the time that he had taken her to task for her frivolous 
life, and had earnestly pleaded with her to give her heart 
to God. 

“Beware of Leander’s sugary words,” she had warned 
her companions, “for they leave a bitter taste in the 
mouth. Anybody can see that he is nothing but a hypo¬ 
crite.” 

As for Gertrude, her sweet modesty and gentleness of 
demeanor had always been a thorn in the flesh to Marie, 
the proud daughter of the rich owner of Great Meadows. 
To be surpassed in public esteem by a poor servant girl 
was unbearable to Marie, who had sought every oppor¬ 
tunity to wound and humiliate Gertrude. 

To her intimate friends Marie had declared: “That 
little saint pretends piety in order to make herself inter¬ 
esting to others. I hear that she and Otto Leander are 
going to marry. I presume they will live on juniper ber¬ 
ries and piety, as that seems to be all they have. But 
perhaps Gertrude will sing, and pray until God sends 
ravens to feed her as in the days of the prophet of old.” 


Ella’s Treasure 


25 

With'smarting conscience Marie recalled these things 
as she stood looking down upon the cozy home of these 
acquaintances of former days. They were happy and in 
comfortable circumstances, while she was poor and friend¬ 
less, without God and practically without a home. She 
who had once been the proud mistress of stately Elmwood 
would now consider himself fortunate indeed, if she 
might call yonder little cottage her home. But while she 
had wasted her possessions in a life of extravagance, this 
young wedded couple had fought their way from poverty 
to a modest competency. 

“They declared,” sighed Marie, “that God and their 
mutual love was enough for them, and I laughed at them ; 
but I see now that their riches were better than silver and 
gold. Even in the midst of poverty they were always 
happy and contented, while discontent always filled my 
heart. O, that I were like them! O, that their God 
were mine also! Leander told me that I was a stranger 
to God’s love. How true his words, for God’s righteous 
wrath is all I know! When God has forsaken me, what 
wonder, then, that men forsake me too!” 

Exhausted and faint from hunger and anxiety, the poor 
woman was unable to continue on her way; so she turned 
aside into the woods and sank down upon a rock, and 
there, unseen by prying eyes, she at last gave way to tears 
of sorrow and remorse. 


26 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER FOUR 
"The God of Her Salvation 

Within the enclosure of Fair Point there were ample 
evidences of thrift and industry. Green lawns bordered 
by sanded paths and dotted with shrubbery surrounded 
the neat cottage. Full-blown cowslips and budding daffo¬ 
dils lent color to the scene, while rosy apple-blossoms filled 
the air with their fragrance. On the side of the river a 
hackberry hedge covered with white blossoms served as 
a boundary. Leaning against the fence of the barnyard a 
man of thirty-five could be seen, from whose blue eyes and 
open countenance a light of peace and contentment shone 
forth. Near him stood a young woman whose fair fea¬ 
tures, lustrous eyes, and graceful figure was good to look 
upon. 

The man was Otto Leander, and the woman his wife 
Gertrude. The little girl of seven summers, who stood 
between them, and who was a perfect picture of Gertrude, 
was their daughter Ella. 

All three were proudly scrutinizing their new posses¬ 
sion, a sleek, well-fed cow that stood tossing her pretty 
head as if to attract attention. 

“What are we going to name her, Mama?” asked Ella. 
“She must have the prettiest name we can think of. 
Don’t you think she is a beauty, Papa?” 

“Yes, Ella, she’s a fine cow, and you who know the 
names of all the cows up at the Manor house can surely 
pick out a pretty name for our bossy,” Otto Leander de¬ 
clared, extending a handful of grass to the cow through 
the fence rails. 


Ella’s Treasure 


2 7 

“But I don’t think the cows up at the Manor house 
have pretty names,” pouted Ella. “There is Juno, and 
Topsy, and Lady, and Stella, and Dahlia, and Astra, 
and—oh, I don’t think those names are pretty at all! 
Then I like the names of Aunt Anna’s cows better, such 
names as White Rose, Silver Wreath, and Star Bright.” 

“Why not call her Star Bright, then, as she has a white 
star in her forehead?” smilingly asked the mother. 

“But White Rose and Golden Crown are also pretty 
names,” said Ella hesitatingly. 

“Too much to choose from is quite as bad as too little, 
isn’t it, Ella?” laughed her father good-naturedly. “Why 
not call her simply Crown? She is said to be the best 
milch cow in the vicinity, and her grand horns which she 
bears so proudly make Crown a very appropriate name for 
her.” 

“Crown, my beautiful Crown! You are the finest 
bossie in all the world,” cried Ella with enthusiasm, as 
she thrust her hand through the fence to pat her new 
treasure on the head, to which Crown responded by gently 
nozzling Ella’s little hand. 

“I am going to gather crowfoot plants for you, Crownie 
dear. Old Martha says that they make good food for 
cows,” cried Ella, preparing to dart away. 

“It’s no use, Ella,” her mother said; “you’ll find no 
crowfoot around here.” 

“O, yes, Mama, I know where they grow,” cried Ella, 
shooting off straight as an arrow into the woods. 

“It’s time now for Crown to get acquainted with her 
new quarters where a good feed awaits her. Come, 
Bossie, and see where you are to live,” said Gertrude, 
opening the gate and grasping the rope around the cow’s 
neck. 


28 


Ella’s Treasure 


“Hadn’t you better wait until Ella comes back with 
the crowfoot? There she comes now,” the father added. 

“But without her .store of crowfoot,” the mother smil¬ 
ingly remarked. “I told my little madcap that she would 
find none.” 

Ella came running at full speed, her empty apron flut¬ 
tering in the wind. 

“Where is your crowfoot, Ella?” 

“O Mama, there is a woman in the woods, sitting on 
a stone and crying her eyes out,” Ella panted, fear and 
sympathy depicted in her girlish face. 

“In the woods, my child! Did you know her?” 

“No, Mama, I have never seen her before,” Ella de¬ 
clared. “She was holding her hands before her eyes and 
crying with all her might.” 

“Was she a young or an old person?” 

“No, yes,—I can’t tell you, Mama. She looked up 
when I came running, and oh, how sad she looked! O, 
Mamma, suppose she was hungry, or suppose her cow had 
died!” Ella exclaimed. 

“I will go and see if I can be of any help to her,” Ger¬ 
trude said, drawing the shawl closer about her shoulders 

“Let me go with you, Mama; I know just where she 
is,” begged Ella. 

“No, my dear, you stay with papa and help him lead 
Crown into her stall. Look, there comes our old mother 
cat with a field mouse in her mouth. Help her find her 
little kitten, that’s a good girl.” 

Ella was easily persuaded, and was soon coaxing the 
kitten from under the porch, that it might share in its 
mother’s feast. 

As her mother hurried off, Ella called to her: “O, 
Mama, invite the sad lady home, and give her a cup of 


Ella’s Treasure 


29 

the coffee that Grandma is preparing for old Martha 
from whom we bought our bossie. And, Mama, wait a 
moment, tell the lady what it says on my picture card 
about God as our everlasting light, and that our days of 
mourning shall be ended.” 

Gertrude followed Ella’s directions, but Marie was no 
longer sitting where the girl had found her. She had 
risen to depart, afraid of being again discovered. She 
had not taken many steps, however, before she came face 
to face with Gertrude. 

Both stopped, and gazed at each other with wondering 
eyes. 

“Can I believe my eyes!” Gertrude exclaimed. “Am I 
mistaken, or are you really Marie of Great Meadows— 
Marie Elmwood?” 

“Your eyes do not deceive you, Gertrude; it is really 
I,” Marie replied. 

“I am very glad indeed to meet you once more. It 
must be all of seven years since we saw each other last,” 
said Gertrude, pressing Marie’s hand warmly. The sad 
history of Marie’s life was known to her, and the poor 
woman’s look of unhappiness touched her deeply. 

“I don’t see how anyone can be glad to see me, and you 
least of all,” Marie replied bitterly, as she furtively wiped 
the welling tears from her eyes. 

“Don’t say that, Marie,” Gertrude protested. “I mean 
what I say. It hurts me to see you so sad. I know in 
part, at least, of the sorrow that has entered your life. 
But my little girl, who saw you here and sent me to you, 
sends you this greeting: ‘Jehovah ivill be thine everlasting 
light , and the days of thy mourning shall be ended / 
Come home with me now, and have a cup of coffee. Then 


30 Ella’s Treasure 

if you will stay with me over night we can have a good, 
long talk.” 

“But, Gertrude, don’t you remember how badly I have, 
treated you? Surely, you cannot have forgotten it!” 

“God has forgotten all my sins, and pardoned them. 
Should I, then, cherish anything but love and good will 
toward you? But come, dear, you are,shivering from 
cold. The night air is penetrating. You really must 
come home with me and get warm.” 

“I caught a glimpse of your cozy little home, and 
should like to come, but—O, Gertrude, if you were only 
alone!” 

“Why, Marie! You are not afraid of my husband 
Otto and Grandma Catherine, are you? They will be 
just as glad as I to see you. Come now, or they will 
drink up all the coffee,” she urged merrily, though she 
was finding it hard to keep back her tears. With gentle 
force she grasped Marie’s arm, and led her out of the 
woods. 

Marie was too exhausted to resist. All her stubborn 
pride yielded to Gertrude’s kind and loving insistence. 
Perhaps she might find peace and consolation in the cot¬ 
tage on the Point! And so it came about that she hesi¬ 
tatingly entered Gertrude’s home, where the cheerful 
glow from an open fireplace blended harmoniously with 
the last rays of the setting sun shining in through the 
windows. 

The large living room presented an inviting appear¬ 
ance. The furnishings were simple, but neat. Several 
pictures hung on the white walls, and 1 over the bureau in 
a corner could be seen the picture of Christ in a heavy 
guilt frame, a highly prized wedding present from her 
former mistress, Baroness von Bielertz. 


Ella’s Treasure 31 

All the furniture of the house had been made by its 
owner, Otto Leander himself, even the great gilded rocker 
that occupied the place of honor in the room. Potted 
plants stood in the two windows, and on the bureau a 
large vase full of wild spring flowers spread their fra¬ 
grance throughout the room. 

An inviting evening meal was spread upon the table in 
the center of the room, and the aroma from a steaming 
coffee pot sent forth its urgent summons to partake of the 
simple but plentiful cheer. 

Before the open fireplace stood an old woman, whose 
rotund figure and rosy cheeks bore evidence of vigorous 
health despite the snowy whiteness of her hair. Age had 
not yet succeeded to dim the sparkle in her eyes, nor to 
remove the gentle good humor that played about her 
mouth. Grandma Catherine, as she was universally 
called, was a woman who had learned the art of spread¬ 
ing cheer and sunshine about her, and therefore she was 
loved and revered by all who knew her. She was now 
making her home with her son Otto Leander and his 
wife Gertrude, much to the joy and happiness of both. 

On a couch at one end of the room sat Mother Martha, 
who had that afternoon brought the cow which she had 
sold to the owners of Fair Point. Beside her sat Otto 
Leander, patiently listening to her endless account of the 
trouble she had in delivering Crownie to her new owrners. 

“Whether you believe me or not, Otto,” she declared, 
“it was fifteen minutes after two when I started out, and 
I ought to have made the trip in two hours easily. But, 
oh my, what a time I had on the way, good creature 
though she is! She stopped and turned, and twisted from 
one side of the road to the other, so that it was almost sun¬ 
down when I got here. She seemed to know that she was 


32 


Ella’s Treasure 


leaving home for good. It was almost impossible to get 
her out of the stall. And when she did make up her mind 
to let me lead her out, she started off at such a rate that I 
was carried off my feet and dragged in the dust. You 
would have laughed, Otto, to see what a fright I was. 
But when we got out on the highway the mean old thing 
stopped dead still. I jerked and 'pulled, and struck her 
with a stick, but never a step would she take. Then I 
began to shout at the top of my voice until my boy Sam 
came to my help. But we hadn’t come far before she 
turned square around and started for home, dragging both 
of us at the end of a rope in a cloud of dust. She led us 
a merry dance, I tell you. And, worst of all, I stubbed 
my toe against a rock. It aches so that I am sure the nail 
will come off. When I finally got here, I was gasping 
for breath and sore in every limb. I never was more 
thankful in my life to have a chance to sit down and rest. 
But for all that, I know she is a good cow, and you will 
like her, I’m sure, and having only one cow, you will give 
her a good home here. And sure as I sit here, every bit of 
feed you give her will turn into the richest of milk! Ah, 
here comes Mrs. Leander. Evidently she isn’t afraid 
of the night air, going out bareheaded that way. Well, 
well, as long as you are young, you think nothing of pains 
and aches, but let me tell you, toothache and headache 
are guests that come without being invited.” 

Mother Martha’s flow of words suddenly stopped, as 
she caught sight of Gertrude’s companion. 

Otto Leander rose hastily when he saw who their guest 
was, but a warning look from his wife made him master 
of the situation. So he stepped forward with extended 
hand and said cordially: “I’m very glad to meet an old 
acquaintance. Welcome to our home.” 


Ella’s Treasure 33 

To Mother Martha, who had not lived in the neigh¬ 
borhood more than three years, the newcomer was a total 
stranger. But her curious gaze clearly showed that she 
was eager to learn what kind of a person this sad-looking 
woman really was. 

But Gertrude, who well knew that Mother Martha 
closely resembled the Athenians in the days of Paul the 
Apostle, in that she was ever eager to hear something new, 
merely presented Marie as an acquaintance of her girl¬ 
hood, whom she had not met for many years. 

Little Ella had been sitting by the window eagerly 
watching to see if her mother would find the “sad lady,” 
and bring her home. She now hesitatingly approached 
Marie, a sweet look of welcome in her childish eyes. 

A sweet sense of peace filled the heart of the grief- 
stricken woman, as she entered this home where love and 
kindness met her on the very threshold. Something of the 
bitterness of her anguish yielded to the warmth of Chris¬ 
tian charity that met her here. 

How strange and unfathomable is the human heart! 
It often seems so hardened by trials as to be wholly unre¬ 
sponsive to gentler emotions, but at a single touch of 
human sympathy it melts and softens as ice exposed to the 
first warm rays of the sun in spring. 

But stranger still and more unfathomable is the God 
of love. Even though the burden of grief rests heavily 
upon the human heart, He is able to fill it with the joy 
and peace that passeth understanding. 

This truth Marie was already beginning to realize, as 
it dawned on her that God was not the cruel and heart¬ 
less God she had thought Him. 

As she sat before the blazing fire on the hearth, par¬ 
taking of simple but satisfying food, and surrounded by 

Ella’s Treasure . 3 . 


34 


Ella’s Treasure 


these kind and sympathizing friends, despondency let go 
its grip on her, and renewed hope crept into her heart. 

After the meal was ended, and Mother Martha had 
departed for home with repeated protestations that she 
had never had a better feast in her life, the others sat 
down before the dying fire on the hearth. The sun had 
set, but the western horizon was still aglow, forming a 
ruddy background to the delicate tracery of leaves and 
branches. From many a pine top thrushes were still 
singing their evening songs, and from the lake below could 
be heard the regular beat of the waves against the shore. 
An air of peace and quiet reigned within the room, broken 
only by the purr of Mama Snow-White over her little 
kitten asleep in their basket by the fireside. 

Ella had little by little crept closer to the “sad lady” she 
had found in the forest. Her heart was full of sympathy 
for the poor woman with pallid features and large sad 
eyes. That some great sorrow had overtaken her, Ella 
had been quick to see even in the dimness of the forest, 
and she was now puzzling her mind to account for the 
heart-broken sobs she had heard there. Greatly desiring 
to manifest her sympathy, Ella made use of all the little 
artifices that children know so well how to employ in 
attracting the notice of their elders. In these efforts the 
little diplomat soon won marked success. The sorrowing 
woman presently drew the little girl to her side and put 
her arm around her, while Ella gently fondled the heavy 
braid of black hair that had come unfastened and fallen 
over the woman’s shoulder. 

Meanwhile Gertrude had been sitting for some time 
wondering how best she might find a way to the closed 
heart of Marie, and thus gain her confidence. Once this 
was accomplished, she would know how to render the 


Ella’s Treasure 


35 

spiritual and material aid she and her husband were so 
willing to give. But before she had hit upon a plan, she 
was forestalled by Ella, who suddenly broke the silence 
by asking: 

“Why were you crying out in the woods, and why are 
you so sad now?” 

“Little girls should not ask prying questions,” chided 
Grandma Catherine. 

But Marie seemed to take the question in good part, 
for she lifted Ella into her lap and said: “Ask as many 
questions as you please, my dear. Let me tell you why 
I was weeping in the woods. I have just lost a little girl, 
the darling of my heart—” 

“Was your little girl as big as I am?” asked Ella, her 
dark eyes wide open and brimming with tears. 

“She was a little over three years old, and the sweetest 
little girl in all the world,” sobbed the mother, her 
wounded heart again torn by an overwhelming sense of 
her loss. “She was the bright star of my life, and when 
I had her in my arms I could almost forget my troubles.” 

Large tears trickled down Ella’s cheeks, as she asked: 
“What was the name of your little girl?” 

“Rosa,” the mother sobbed. “But now my little rose¬ 
bud is lying pale and cold in death, and her little hands 
will never again pat her mother’s cheeks.” 

Marie Elmwood sobbed as only a bereaved and heart¬ 
broken mother can. The older persons in the room 
wisely permitted her to unburden her heart. But an in¬ 
spiring thought had come to Ella, which she found it im¬ 
possible to keep from uttering: 

“She isn’t dead!” Ella cried. 


36 Ella’s Treasure 

Marie cast a startled look upon the little girl, who in 
the twilight took on the appearance of an angel from 
heaven. 

“She has only gone home to Jesus, the children’s 
Friend,” Ella continued; “and there she will never die. 
There are many, many little children with Jesus in heaven, 
and there they never cry, nor suffer hunger and pain.” 

Ella subsided into silence, but her artless words kept 
repeating themselves in the soul of the bereaved mother, 
where they served as a soothing and healing balm to her 
wounded heart. 

The most terrible thought to the mother’s heart had 
been that her darling had died from hunger, and that her 
own proud, unbending nature had been the cause of little 
Rosa’s death. 

But now another voice was speaking within. Rosa is 
not dead—will never die. Nevermore will she suffer pain 
or hunger. Jesus, the children’s Friend, has taken her 
little Rosa unto Himself. There were many other little 
children with Him in heaven. She was not alone in her 
bereavement. There were many other mothers who had 
wept over the loss of dear ones—and had been com¬ 
forted. 

Through the artless words of a child a ray of divine 
light now penetrated the darkness of Marie’s soul. She 
still wept, but into her grief-stricken heart had been 
poured a healing balm from “the Father of mercies and 
the God of all comfort.” 

Otto Leander sat wondering why he found it so hard 
to utter some word of consolation, but Gertrude his wife 
thought in her heart: “Out of the mouth of babes and 
sucklings thou hast perfected praise.” 


Ella’s Treasure 37 

Again the silence was broken by Ella, who asked: “Did 
your little girl long to go to Jesus?” 

The question cut as a knife into the mother’s heart. 
What answer could she give? 

Thinking that she had not heard, Ella again asked: 
“Little Rosa wanted to go to Jesus, didn’t she?” 

What should she answer to these searching questions 
of a child? Intuitively Marie felt that nothing but the 
naked truth would serve her now. Evasion was out of 
the question. 

“O Ella,” she sobbed; “what would you say if I told 
you that my little Rosa had never heard of Jesus as the 
Friend of children? Her mama had never spoken to her 
about Jesus.” 

A look of blank amazement overspread Ella’s face. 
How strange that there could be a mother who had never 
spoken to her little girl about Jesus! But her face bright¬ 
ened as another thought occurred to her. So turning to 
her father, she asked: 

“Papa, don’t you believe that Jesus knew little Rosa, 
even if she didn’t know Him?” 

“Indeed I do, my child,” the father replied. “The 
Word of God tells us that the Lord will gather the lambs 
in His arms, and carry them in His bosom; and I am 
sure Rosa was one of His little lambs.” 

“Indeed she was!” cried Ella with sparkling eyes. 
“Jesus would never refuse to take such a little lamb into 
His arms, I’m sure of that!” 

“O, I hope so, my little comforter,” sobbed Marie. “I 
hope that God will not punish my little child for the sins 
of her mother!” 


38 


Ella’s Treasure 


Breaking her silence, Gertrude now gently said: “Je¬ 
sus says of little children that to such belongeth the king¬ 
dom of God.” 

“Thank God,” cried Marie, “that my child is in His 
loving care! O, that this were also true of me!” 

“You want to be a child of God, don’t you?” asked 
Ella eagerly, looking up into Marie’s eyes. 

“My child, won’t you call me auntie?” Marie asked, 
evading the question, and gently stroking Ella’s fluffy hair. 

Of course I will,” Ella declared. “I haven’t any other 
auntie than Aunt Anna, who has told me that she is a 
child of God. You want to be a child of God, too, don’t 
you, Aunt Marie?” 

The room was almost dark now, but Marie could see 
Ella’s eager eyes peering up into her own. 

“Yes,” she answered hesitatingly, “if that were only 
possible. But I have been so sinfully vain and wicked all 
my days, that I scarcely dare hope that God is willing to 
receive me as His child.” 

“But, dear Marie,” protested Gertrude, gently grasp¬ 
ing the other’s hand: “God’s Word tells us what His will 
is in this respect. There we read that God would have 
all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the 
truth. And you know, Marie, that God does not lie.” 

“If I could only believe that those words are intended 
for me!” sighed Marie. “But up to this time I have 
always rejected that promise with scorn.” 

“Didn’t you hear, Auntie, that it says ‘all men’?” 
cried Ella, taking Marie’s face between her two chubby 
hands. “That means you, too, Auntie. God is willing if 
you are willing.” 

“O, I do want to, but—” 


Ella’s Treasure 39 

“He that is athirst; let him come: he that will, let him 
take the water of life freely” solemnly quoted Gertrude. 

Otto now deemed that the time had come for him to 
enter the struggle for the winning of a soul. Gently but 
firmly he met and overcame all the “ifs” and “huts” that 
Marie interposed, while Gertrude, who had a more inti¬ 
mate knowledge of the workings of a woman’s heart, was 
ever ready to insert a word in order to steer clear of the 
shoals of religious disputation and to lead the conversa¬ 
tion into the safer channels of loving persuasion in the 
light of Gospel truth. 

All the while Grandma Catherine sat busily knitting a 
stocking, manifesting her interest by nodding her head in 
energetic approval, and Ella, grown silent, sat in Marie’s 
lap, looking into the flickering glow of the dying fire, her 
thoughts, as is the way of children, roaming far afield, 
where it would be difficult to follow them. 

The old clock on the shelf struck ten. As if this were a 
signal, Otto arose, opened the family Bible, and after a 
brief prayer he read the 54th chapter of Isaiah, comment¬ 
ing briefly on the sacred Word, and here and there re¬ 
reading a passage. 

“Many a bleeding heart has found in these words the 
balm of Gilead. Many a weary pilgrim has been re¬ 
freshed by its living waters. Many a lost wanderer has 
been guided by this star of hope into the way of truth and 
life. 

“Though the promise was given to God’s chosen people 
of old, all who so desire can take such words as these unto 
themselves: 'For a small moment have I forsaken thee; 
but with great mercies will I gather thee. In overflowing 
wrath I hid my face from three for a moment; but with 
everlasting lovingkindness will I have mercy on tliee , saith 


Ella’s Treasure 


40 

Jehovah thy Redeemer. O thou afflicted, tossed with 
tempest, and not comforted, behold, I will set thy stones 
in fair colors, and lay thy foundations ivith sapphires / 

“Yes, we have as much right to rest our wearied souls 
on these promises as we have to rest our tired bodies on 
our beds this night. Happy is he who can take unto him¬ 
self this promise: f For the mountains may depart, and the 
hills be removed; but my lovingkindness shall not depart 
from thee, neither shall my covenant of peace be removed, 
saith Jehovah that hath mercy on thee.' ” 

Marie Elmwood sat with bowed head, outwardly calm 
but inwardly seething with a tide of conflicting emotions. 
Adversity as well as prosperity seemed to have exerted its 
powers to harden her heart against the promptings of the 
Spirit of God. But now in some inexplicable way the 
gentle touch of human sympathy had pierced the armor of 
her pride, and laid bare her bleeding heart to the healing 
power of divine grace and mercy. How strikingly the 
inspired Word had described her! ff Afflicted—tossed with 
tempest—not comforted”! In this moment a deep con¬ 
viction came to her that she had richly deserved all this 
and more. 

But could she also take to herself the divine Word 
about a Redeemer whose heart was full of everlasting 
lovingkindness? What were those other words Otto had 
read? "In righteousness shalt thou be established: thou 
shall be far from oppression, for thou shalt not fear; and 
from terror, for it shall not come near thee.” 

Suddenly it became clear to Marie that God was just 
as faithful in His promises as He was immutable in His 
righteous judgments. With a resoluteness characteristic 
of her she now determined to bow penitently under God’s 


Ella’s Treasure 41 

judgment and to accept humbly and gratefully divine 
mercy as a free gift of God’s grace. 

“The other great moments in her life, whether of tri¬ 
umph or adversity, had been proclaimed from the house¬ 
tops; this moment, the greatest of all, she hid away in the 
most secret chamber of her heart. Not even the inmates 
of the cottage suspected it. The angels of heaven alone 
shared the secret, and rejoiced over a sinner saved by 
grace. 

When Otto had finished the reading and had offered 
up a fervent petition to God, Marie sat silently pondering 
for several minutes. 

Finally she asked: “Otto, where do you find those 
words?” 

“In Isaiah 54,” he replied. “If you like I can jot 
down the place on a piece of paper for you. The words 
seem to be meant for you, Marie!” 

“Yes, yes, every word was meant for me. But it won’t 
do any good to jot down the chapter for me. The beauti¬ 
ful Bible I received as a wedding present was sold with 
my other possessions at public auction. Since that time 
I have not been able to buy another, even if I had wished 
to do so.” 

“If you really want a Bible,” said Otto, “God will 
provide you with one. He-is the God of your salvation, 
Marie—the God of your salvation.” 

“Yes,” said Marie firmly; “I believe—I know that He 
is the God of my salvation.” 


42 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER FIVE 

“Jehovah will be thine everlasting' light, and the days of 
thy jnourning shall be ended” 

Ella slipped down from Marie’s lap and whispered 
mysteriously to her parents, who nodded their assent. 
Thereupon she ran off to the other end of the room, and 
returned holding something in h^r hands behind her back. 

“Aunt Marie,” she cried eagerly; “here is my little 
Bible which I can’t read very well yet. Will you take it 
as a present from me?” 

“O, thank you, Ella dear; but I haven’t the heart to 
do it. Keep it for yourself, my little comforter.” 

“O, Auntie, take it, take it! Both mama and papa want 
you to have it. See how fine and new it is!” 

“No, my child; I cannot take your Bible. I will man¬ 
age somehow to get one,” Marie declared positively, al¬ 
most harshly, pushing Ella’s hand aside. 

Sadly disappointed, Ella stood with bowed head to 
hide her tear-filled eyes. 

“Ella dear, are you sorry that I won’t take your Bible? 
What a good little girl you are!” cried Marie, impulsively 
throwing her arms about the child. 

“Papa said in the Sunday school not long ago,” Ella 
stammered, “that the Word of God is a light upon our 
way to heaven, and that if we do not have it, we will walk 
in darkness and get lost. O Auntie, how can you get to 
heaven, if you haven’t got a Bible?” 

“But, my dear girl, if I take yours, you won’t have 


one. 


Ella’s Treasure 43 

“O, I can read in papa’s Bible until I get so big that I 
can buy one for myself. Papa’s big Bible has many beau¬ 
tiful pictures that I love to look at. But my Bible, which 
I got when I was seven years old on the 5th of May, only 
has this one picture card which you can use as a bookmark. 
See, Auntie, how pretty it is! I can read what it says 
on the card: ' Jehovah will be thine everlasting light, and 
the days of thy mourning shall be ended! Make that 
your own golden text, Auntie.” 

“Is it really my Bible, my picture card, my golden 
text!” cried Marie. And are you willing that Ella should 
give them to me?” 

“Yes, take the Bible, Marie,” said Otto and Gertrude. 
“We really want you to have it.” 

Clapping her hands excitedly, Ella exclaimed: “It’s 
your Bible, Aunt Marie! Now you and your little girls 
can read all about God and His love.” 

“There, there, you little goose,” chided Grandma. 
“Stop dancing around. Don’t you see that Aunt Marie 
wants to thank you?” 

“Thank you, thank you, my dear child; and thank you, 
my kind friends! I will prize this gift as.my greatest 
treasure. God forgive me, that I have neglected His 
Word all these years. Too long have I wandered in 
darkness. May the Lord hereafter be my everlasting 
light!” 

. /'And the days of thy mourning shall be ended ” added 
Gertrude softly. 

“Dear friend,” said Otto solemnly; “you are included 
in Christ’s invitation: 'Come unto me, all ye that labor 
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” 

“I have come—I have found peace to the soul!” said 


44 


Ella’s Treasure 


Marie feelingly. “I can’t tell you how it happened, but 
I know it’s true, and that He did not cast me out.” 

“But when, Marie, when did it happen?” cried Ger¬ 
trude, full of astonishment. 

“Right here and now, Gertrude! I have never be¬ 
lieved in the actuality of conversion. But now I know 
it from personal experience.” 

“O, I am as ignorant as a child,” she continued. “But 
God will be patient with me, and His Word will lead 
me in the way of truth and life.” 

“Indeed, it will,” said Otto; “but are you sure that 
you have forgiveness of sins?” he asked seriously. 

“Don’t you think I have?” Marie asked anxiously. 
“For a long time I have been weighed down by a heavy 
burden; but not until to-day did I know that it was the 
burden of my own sins. Yes, Otto, I know that my sins 
are forgiven, for the burden has been lifted off.” 

At these words there was joy, not only among the angels 
of heaven, but also in the lowly cottage on Fair Point, 
where human voices mingled with celestial strains in 
songs of praise and thanksgiving to God. 

Again Marie read the words on the picture card: “Je¬ 
hovah will he thine everlasting light, and the days of thy 
mouring shall be ended” 

“My poor, dear Marie,” Gertrude murmured tenderly; 
“many and long have been the days of your mourning.” 

Marie hid her face in her hands as a tide of emotion 
swept over her. Presently she lifted her head and said: 

“I have never told anyone of the dark days I have 
passed through. But now that my sinful pride is broken, 
I want to unburden my heart to you.” 

“But don’t you think it is time to creep into bed?” sug¬ 
gested Grandma Catherine. “It is very late, and Marie 


Ella’s Treasure 45 

has had a trying day. To-morrow she will be rested and 
refreshed, and then she can tell us what she wants us to 
know.” 

“No, now if ever!” cried Marie, almost hysterically. 
“Sit around me, all of you. Don’t light the lamp, for I 
can speak and you can listen without it. You don’t look 
a bit sleepy, and I feel as wide awake and rested as if I 
had slept the clock round. To-morrow I must get up 
with the sun, for, as you know, I have at home a little 
withered rosebud that must be bedded down, and besides, 
two hungry girls who have been counting the hours for 
their niama’s return. Sit in my lap, Ella, if you are not 
too sleepy.” 

“I think that it is best for my little girl to snuggle 
down in bed. Otherwise she will oversleep, and not be 
able to go with grandma when she milks our new cow in 
the morning.” So spoke Gertrude, deeming it best for 
Ella not to hear Marie’s sad story. 

Ella obeyed her mother’s wishes without a murmur, 
and was soon fast asleep in her little bed. 

And so Marie, surrounded by these sympathizing 
friends told without evasion or omission the sad story of 
her life, such as we have already learned to know it. 
Only when she reached the end, and told of little Rosa’s 
sickness and death, did her composure leave her, and she 
burst into tears, causing her friends also to shed tears of 
loving sympathy. 

When she again gained mastery over herself, she said 
pleadingly: “And now that you have suffered and wept 
with me, let us kneel and thank God that the days of my 
mourning are ended.” 

So they knelt together while Otto voiced their mutual 
feeling of gratitude to God in a fervent prayer. 


Ella’s Treasure 


46 

Something must have awakened Ella, for when Ger¬ 
trude made ready to lead Marie into the little chamber 
where she would sleep, Ella opened her eyes and whis¬ 
pered to her father: “Papa, won’t you make a little white 
casket dotted with golden stars for Aunt Marie’s little 
Rosa?” 

* * * 

“O Gertrude, what a pretty little room!” Marie ex¬ 
claimed when she entered the small guest chamber. “It 
is altogether too fine for me!” 

The walls of the little room were a creamy white, and 
broken only by one window and the door through which 
she had entered. In one corner stood a bed of snowy 
whiteness. Two chairs, a bureau, and a little round 
table were the only other articles of furniture. On the 
table lay several volumes containing devotional reading. 
Over the bureau hung a large portrait of Baroness von 
Bielertz, Gertrude’s former mistress, and under it a little 
photograph of Ella, taken when she was four years old. 
In the window stood a row of potted plants to lend their 
cheer of color and fragrance. 

In this cozy chamber the weary wanderer was free to 
rest more comfortably than for many years past. But as 
yet she was not disposed to yield to the lure of the inviting 
bed. All things were new and strange to her this night. 
Even commonplace, material things had taken on a new 
aspect. She tiptoed to the window, rolled up the shade, • 
and opened the window softly. The gentle breezes of 
the spring night wafted to her a sweet sense of God's 
nearness. With the night air that came to her she seemed 
to breathe in an overflowing abundance of divine love. 
Not chance, but a loving God, had brought her to this 


Ella’s Treasure 47 

haven of refuge. Though the songs of birds were hushed, 
she could still hear the rhythmic beat of the waves on the 
shore below the Point. 

She lingered long at the open window, her eyes raised 
to heaven where twinkling stars sent her their message of 
peace. 

Suddenly her heart contracted with darting pain. 
Again she seemed to hear her nephew Carl’s voice out of 
the night: “Aunt Marie! Forgive me—come back to 
us!” 

She had not forgiven! How could she hope then, that 
God had forgiven her? 

But now she could and did forgive them with all her 
heart. If it were seemly, she would rush to them through 
the night, and plead with them to forgive her for her 
haughty pride and hardness of heart. 

“O Carl,” she sighed, “if I had only listened to your 
prayer for forgiveness! But I will ask Otto and Ger¬ 
trude to go to them and tell them what wondrous things 
God has done for us, and to bring them my full forgive¬ 
ness and my plea for forgiveness on their part.” 

And so for the third time that night she sank to her 
knees and continued in prayer until sweet peace again 
flooded her heart. 

Then she lay down to sleep until at break of dawn 
Grandma Catherine came into her chamber with a tray 
of coffee. 


48 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER SIX 

“Blessed is he that considereth the poor: Jehovah will 
deliver him in the day of evil 

The next morning when Gertrude went up into the 
attic to cut a slice of ham from the supply hanging from 
the rafters, she found to her surprise that Otto was al¬ 
ready there. He was standing with his back to the door 
leading into the small gable room which served as the 
family wardrobe, and he was engaged in examining the 
slender store of clothing belonging to his wife. Unseen 
by him, Gertrude stood awhile watching him turning and 
eyeing one dress after another with an air of growing 
perplexity. At last Gertrude was overcome by the humor 
of the situation, and burst into peals of laughter. 

“What in the world are you doing, and what is there 
about my dresses that makes you look so anxious?” she 
cried merrily. 

With a look of mingled guilt and astonishment Otto 
faced about, and replied half apologetically: 

“Why, it’s this way, Mother. I wanted to see for 
myself the state of your wardrobe; for if I had told you 
of a little plan I have without doing so, you would have 
declared that you had an abundance of clothing, no mat¬ 
ter how slender your supply might be.” 

“And what has your little plan to do with my supply 
of clothing, if I am permitted to ask?” laughed Gertrude. 

“Sit down beside me on the chest, and I will tell you 
all about it. When Victor, you know whom I mean, 
went north to seek work, he borrowed ten crowns of me, 
promising to pay it back as soon as he was able. At first, 


Ella’s Treasure 


49 

as you remember, he wrote occasionally, but never men¬ 
tioned a word about the money. As the amount was 
small, I at last concluded that Victor had forgotten all 
about it, for he was always thoroughly reliable although 
he did not profess to be a Christian. But a week or two 
ago I met Mr. Stiler up at the steel works—you remem¬ 
ber Stiler who rebuilt the sawmill some years ago. Well, 
when I met him, he requested a private interview with 
me. It seems that he met Victor up north, and had 
undertaken to bring me the ten crowns Victor owed me. 
But although Stiler has been in this neighborhood many 
times during the last seven years, he has failed to perform 
the duty intrusted to him by Victor. Lately, however, an 
awakened conscience would give him no rest, and so he 
sought me out, paid the debt, and cleared Victor’s good 
name. To make some restitution for his dishonesty he 
handed me five dollars extra, begging me buy some little 
present for you from one who hoped hereafter to lead an 
upright Christian life. Having made his confession, he 
whipped up his team and was off with a speed like that 
of Jehu.” 

“O, that he might take his Christianity seriously!” 
sighed Gertrude. “That would be worth more to him 
than all the wealth of North River Manor.—But I can’t 
see yet what all this has to do with the state of my ward¬ 
robe.” 

“Give me time, my dear, and I will tell you. You 
remember how well j-ou liked Aunt Anna’s new gray 
dress, when she was here for Ella’s birthday. Now I 
confess that I don’t understand anything about such 
things, but I made up my mind that, if I could get the 
money, my little wife, who hasn’t had a new dress for 
several years, should have just as nice a dress as Aunt 


Ella’s Treasure. 4 . 


50 


Ella’s Treasure 


Anna. Then comes this unexpected sum of fifteen crowns 
as a gift from heaven, and as if especially intended to 
furnish the money for your new dress.” 

“Good old Otto!” murmured Gertrude, patting her 
husband tenderly on the cheek. 

“But now, Gertrude, I’m not so sure about it as I was. 
Here comes a poor woman, sorrow-stricken and destitute, 
without means even to buy a little casket for her dead 
child. Christ’s words keep ringing in my ears: “All things 
therefore whatsoever ye would that men should do unto 
you, even so do ye also unto them’ And then there is 
that other command: ‘He that hath two coats , let him im¬ 
part to him that hath none.’ So I stole up here to see 
how you were fixed for dresses before I finally decided 
what to do.” 

“And then, my dear man, I came up and caught you 
in the act,” said Gertrude, between smiles and tears. 
“See, here is my wedding dress, as fine and glossy to-day 
as when I first put it on. And here is my second best, 
not quite up to date, but a good dress yet. And here is 
my heavy woolen dress almost new, and my light lawn 
dress for summer wear, and then my house dresses. 
That’s more than two, Otto, and I’d much rather have 
you give Marie the money than to have you buy me a new 
dress, which I really don’t need.” 

“Suppose, then, we give her ten crowns—most likely I 
could have bought you a new dress for that—and keep 
the five to buy material for the cupboard I was going to 
make you.” 

“O Otto, let her have the whole sum; she needs it 
more than we do. Ten crowns won’t go far, nor even 
fifteen. We would never have missed the fifteen crowns 
if Mr. Stiler had neglected to pay his just debt. Let 


Ella’s Treasure 51 

Marie have it all. That’s the best birthday present you 
can give your wife.” 

Otto promptly surrendered with an inner glow of sat¬ 
isfaction and gratitude to God for the priceless gift of a 
good little wife to keep him in the path of righteousness 
and duty. 

* * * 

When husband and wife entered the living room, 
Marie met them with a new light in her eye as they ex¬ 
changed morning greetings. 

While Gertrude busied herself with preparations for 
breakfast, Otto led Marie into the next room, where a 
fierce battle between pride and charity was fought out 
between them. Marie beat off Otto’s every advance until 
he was on the point of capitulating, when Gertrude 
stepped into the breach and saved the day. 

“Marie,” she said firmly; “I fear that you are permit¬ 
ting the old spirit of pride to influence you. If the small 
gift we offer you is of God, you have no right to refuse it. 
Think of your little girls and their needs. Be reasonable, 
Marie, and look at this thing in the right light. There, 
there, I know you will. Come and have a little break¬ 
fast now before you start.” 

What was there for Marie to do but to take the gift, 
thank for it—and burst into tears? 

After breakfast Marie made hasty preparations for de¬ 
parture. 

“How can I ever repay you?” she cried at the moment 
of parting. “I opened my precious Bible this morning, 
and my eyes fell on the words: ' Blessed is he that consid- 
ereth the poor: Jehovah will deliver him in the day of 
evil / I hope and pray that you will be spared a day of 


52 


Ella’s Treasure 


evil; but should it befall you, remember God’s promise to 
those who do what you have done this day to the poorest 
of the poor. God bless you, Otto; and you, too, Gertrude. 
You have heaped coals of fire upon my head.” 

Gertrude filled a basket of good things from her pan¬ 
try, and covered it with a fold of white linen which 
might serve as a shroud for little Rosa. 

Grandma Catherine was not to be outdone in kindness. 
Hastily folding up a black alpaca dress, a memento of her 
days of mourning for her dead husband, she thrust it 
under Marie’s arm with the words: 

“There, make two little dresses of it for your girls. 
There is plenty of cloth, for it was not cut on the bias, 
as is the practice nowadays.” 

How grateful Marfe was for these simple gifts! With 
a pang of remorse she remembered the time when she had 
lavishly scattered gifts, and proudly refused to be in¬ 
debted to anyone. But the last few hours she had been 
sitting at the feet of Him who is “meek and lowly in 
heart ” and she had learned her lesson rapidly and well. 

Before going, Marie could not resist the impulse to 
press a parting kiss on Ella’s cheek, as she lay asleep in 
in her bed. 

The child stirred, opened her sleepy eyes, and said: 
“Papa, you won’t forget the little white coffin for Aunt 
Marie’s Rosa.” 

“Did you hear that, Marie?” said Otto. “You won’t 
need to order a coffin for Rosa; Ella has done that.” 

* * -* 

By six o’clock Marie was already on her way home. 
The day was not warm and full of sunshine as the day 
before, but cold and blustering, as if winter were making 


Ella’s Treasure 


53 

a last attempt to maintain its stay. But in the heart of 
Marie Elmwood there was spring and sunshine, for the 
sun of righteousness had scattered the darkness within. 
Only a few birds twittered cheerlessly about her, but in 
her heart the joyous song resounded: 

“I know that Jesus loves me, and 
No more I need to know; 

For though He sometimes hides His face. 

He’s near where’er I go.” 

This was Gertrude’s favorite song, and she had hung 
it that morning at their devotions; but Marie sang it all 
day, and for many a day thereafter. 

At parting, Otto had said: “Surely goodness and lov¬ 
ingkindness shall follow you all the days of your life. 
You may not always feel the divine presence; but God is 
faithful, He will not forsake you.” 

As for Marie, all fear and anxiety had not left her 
heart. Her future lay dark and forbidding before her; 
but a still small voice was whispering words of cheer 
within: “Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dis¬ 
mayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I 
will keep thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right 
hand of my righteousness 

When Marie approached the dilapidated house in the 
second story of which she now occupied two bare rooms, 
she was met by her two little girls, pale and thin from 
lack of nourishing food. A light cotton dress covered the 
one, and a dark muslin the other; both were tattered and 
torn beyond hope of repair. Their bare feet were red 
from the sharp chill of the gloomy spring day. 

“O Mama, Mama!” the older girl cried; “have you 
something for us to eat? Our last scrap of bread went 


Ella’s Treasure 


54 

this morning with the coffee we cooked on the grounds.” 

Eagerly they clung to their mother, eyeing with lively 
interest the basket she carried on her arm. 

“Yes, my dears,” Marie replied with trembling voice; 
“Mama has food for you—food for both body and soul, 
I trust. My poor little hungry darlings,” she added, 
passionately pressing them to her breast; “I hope that you 
will never go hungry any more. Your Mama has found 
a Friend who has promised that He will be our everlast¬ 
ing light, and that the days of our mourning shall be 
ended.” 


CHAPTER SEVEN 
The Day of Evil. 

It was a gorgeous day in early October. The trees had 
put on warmer tints than their summer green, and now 
stood decked in royal gold and purple. The fields pre¬ 
sent a sorry sight, the yellow stubble, however, bearing 
witness of a plenteous harvest safely garnered. The 
meadows were still green, and the sky retained the deep 
blue of summer, heightened by the fleecy clouds that 
floated listlessly across its far-flung arch. 

The afternoon sun beat down on the roof of the cot¬ 
tage on Fair Point, which in the garish light of the au¬ 
tumn day look gray and weather-beaten. The yard, how¬ 
ever, with its smooth lawn and well-kept flowerbeds was 
pleasing and inviting as of old. 

The river emptying into the lake was deep and swift 
with autumn rains, and on its surface floated vast fleets 
of fallen leaves. 


Ella’s Treasure 55 

On a shelving rock on the river’s bank stood a girl of 
twelve rinsing clothes in the swift waters. Clad in an 
old faded dress, her bare feet resting firmly on the wet 
rock, she was perfoming her duties with the skill and 
steadiness of one much older in years. A second look is 
needed before we can recognize in the slender, pale-fa^ed 
girl the once rosy and chubby Ella Leander. 

More than four years have sped since she gave away 
to a poor woman her most precious possession, her BibK 
The face of the once happy and care-free girl now bore 
the stamp of premature seriousness. The hand of time 
that once had tenderly caressed her now rested heavily 
on her young shoulders. Even in former years there had 
always been a strain of seriousness in her nature, but 
this was deepened now by some anxiety that seemed to 
weigh her down. 

By fits and starts she would attack the task before her, 
only to pause suddenly and stand lost in thought, regard¬ 
less of the icy water that washed about her bare feet. 

That her thoughts were not happy ones could be readily 
seen by the troublesome tears she could not hinder from 
coursing down her young cheeks. 

It was a sad blow to Ella that her precious cow, her 
faithful Crownie, would soon be taken from her, never to 
be caressed and petted by her again. Never again would 
Ella look into Crownie’s large eyes, so full of under¬ 
standing; never again would Crownie’s tongue caress the 
hand and face of her young mistress. And how they 
would all miss the milk which Crownie had so abundantly 
and faithfully supplied! 

Times were not so prosperous now for the inmates of 
the cottage on Fair Point. For years their industry and 
thrift had steadily increased their resources until they had 


Ella’s Treasure 


56 

amassed a modest competency, which, perhaps, threatened 
to engage their thoughts to the exclusion of higher inter¬ 
ests. But God, whose thoughts are not our thoughts, and 
whose ways are not our ways, was watching over them 
to lead them into paths dark and difficult for flesh and 
blood, but blessed and wholesome for those who submit 
to His guidance. 

A year and a half ago the blow fell. Through an acci¬ 
dent Otto Leander lost his health and his power to pro¬ 
vide for his family, and had ever since been confined to 
his bed. Almost at the same time Baroness von Bielertz, 
the best friend the family had ever had, died at a foreign 
health resort, before she had time to carry out her plan to 
provide for Gertrude, her favorite maid of former years. 

As the baroness was childless, and without any near 
relatives, the entire estate of North River Manor was sold 
to a wealthy American, Oakwood by name, who was plan¬ 
ning to make it his home and carry on the extensive iron 
industries there, but who as yet had not entered upon his 
new possessions. 

As a result of these untoward happenings the income of 
the Leander family was restricted to what Gertrude could 
earn by constant and untiring labor. She was a skilled 
seamstress, and the whir of her machine could be heard 
early and late. She was also a first-class laundress, dili¬ 
gently employed by the party of the Manor and by the 
numerous guests that visited them. 

But with the death of the last representative of the 
Bielertz family these sources of income were suddenly cut 
off. The Manor house stood empty and forsaken, and 
Gertrude’s services as seamstress and laundress were no 
longer in demand. To this was added that Gertrude’s 


Ella’s Treasure 57 

health had begun to fail through overwork and night 
watching at the bedside of her husband. 

Grandma Catherine, courageous and resolute as ever, 
did what she could to eke out the slender income. Her 
knitting needles and spinning wheel were busy from 
morning till night, but the financial results were pitifully 
small |: 

Thus it came about that hard times descended upon the 
once happy and prosperous home. Even Ella, though only 
twelve, must bear her full share of the burdens. Though 
she sighed wonderingly at the change, she willingly for¬ 
sook her long rambles in field and forest, where squirrels, 
flowers, and birds had been her playmates, and where she 
had built wonderful air castles to suit her childhood’s 
fancy. 

Now her castles were crumbling and giving way to a 
daily round of prosaic duties that weighed heavily on her 
young shoulders. 

But the combined efforts of the inmates of Fair Point 
cottage did not suffice to keep want and anxiety from their 
door. Dark and forbidding loomed the way before them, 
and it grew difficult at times to place implicit trust in the 
nearness and guidance of a loving God. 

For Gertrude the hardest trial she had to bear was the 
constant suffering of her dear husband. Toil and want 
and privations were as nothing to the anguish of seeing, 
but being unable to alleviate, Otto’s weary days and end¬ 
less nights of suffering. Here her love was powerless; she 
could only bide—and pray. 

“The day of evil” had overtaken them, and the day of 
deliverance seemed distant and uncertain. 

But more than his bodily pains the debts he had in¬ 
curred through his sickness caused Otto Leander many v 


Ella’s Treasure 


5 « 

sleepless night. His savings had dwindled until nothing 
now remained, and now to stave off utter want if but for 
a week or two he was confronted by the necessity of sell¬ 
ing their precious Crownie that had almost come to be 
considered as a member of the family. 

This, then, was the cause of Ella’s silent grief, as she 
stood gazing with unseeing eyes upon the scene before her, 
which under other circumstances would have filled her 
heart with infinite delight. Opposite the point and across 
the river extended a park-like section of the forest, amid 
whose towering trees winding paths disappeared behind 
huge bowlders, and the dark mouth of a mysterious cave 
could be dimly seen in the distance. 

On either side of the river, just where it makes a bold 
turn toward the lake, twin cliffs rose abruptly from the 
water. Between these could be seen the stately battle¬ 
ments and towers of North Manor outlined against the 
sky and proudly dominating the surroundings. The cliff 
nearest Fair Point was separated from it by the highway 
that wound about its base. On the summit of this cliff, 
and hidden by a group of ancient pines, stood a granite 
monument, seamed with age, inclined from the perpen¬ 
dicular, and its base covered with thick moss. Covering 
the face of the monument was an inscription in antique 
Latin script: 

RAGNHILD VON BIELERTZ 

Died Anno Domini 1638, 

Aged XVI years, 

Here where her joyous Days of Youth were spent 
Sorrowing Parents have reared this Monument. 

RESURGAM. 



Whenever she had leisure, she would hasten up the steep path 
to the monument, often bringing a wreath of flowers or winter- 
green... Page 60. 









Ella’s Treasure 


60 

On the cliff across the river were the remains of a 
ruined Gothic chapel. The twin cliffs were therefore 
locally known as the Temple Cliff and Ragnhild’s Cliff. 
The latter had always exerted a fascinating influence 
over Ella. Whenever she had leisure, she would hasten 
up the steep path to the monument, often bringing a 
wreath of flowers or wintergreen with which to deck the 
resting place of the youthful Lady Ragnhild. Often Ella 
endeavored to embrace the mossy stone, which bravely 
tried to perpetuate the memory of one about whom Ella’s 
fantasy had woven golden threads of romance. Often 
when Ella sat listening to the whispering pines, she won¬ 
dered if they were trying to tell her the story of Ragn¬ 
hild’s life. 

How eagerly she yearned to know if the noble Rahnhild 
had died a Christian, and if she were now with God in 
heaven. She plied the oldest people in the neighborhood 
with questions about this; but as no one seemed to know, 
she sought to read the answer from the ancient inscrip¬ 
tion, and one day a traveler who came to view the monu¬ 
ment told her what the last word meant: Resurgam, I 
shall rise again. From that day Ella rejoiced in the hope 
of one day meeting Lady Ragnhild in heaven. 

A short distance east of Fair Point cottage could yet be 
seen the foundation stones of old Ella’s cottage. This 
old* place, too, possessed a magic power over Ella—a 
power that made her shudder as when she heard stories 
of ghosts and goblins. She could never approach the old 
place except with quaking heart. And during autumn 
evenings when she saw the phosphorescent lights in the 
marsh near by, her childish fancy pictured the old witch 
moving about with her lantern in vain search of the hid¬ 
den treasure that tradition spoke of as being concealed 


Ella’s Treasure 6i 

somewhere about Fair Point. Ella pictured her as a poor 
lost soul doomed to wander forever about her old haunts 
because of her love of gold, or, perhaps, because of some 
awful crime committed. 

But at that moment when Ella stood on the water- 
laved rock by the river, her neglected washing at her feet, 
she was not thinking of Ragnhild’s Cliff or the witch’s 
cottage; the more prosaic things of this workaday world 
were engaging her gloomy thoughts, and causing the tears 
to trickle down her cheeks. 

How wicked she had been in her violent objections to 
the sale of Crownie! The gentle remonstrances of her 
parents had not moved her. Even when they tried to 
show her that the sale of Crownie was clearly in accord¬ 
ance with God’s will, her own sinful will rebelled against 
it. Where was now the love and obedience on which she 
had prided herself? What a wicked girl she was to have 
so wounded the feelings of her dear suffering papa! 

But the sun was sinking behind the towers of North 
River Manor, and the lengthening shadows of the pines 
on Ragnhild’s Cliff were extending their arms toward her. 
Time was passing, and there was much for her to do. 
So she attacked her washing with redoubled energy, until 
the spray flew high into the air, and the sound of splash¬ 
ing water reached a squirrel scolding from the branches 
of an oak on the Point. 


62 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER EIGHT 
"The Fruit of Her Hands.” 

“Good evening, Ella!” 

The greeting came to her across the waters in the clear 
tones of a woman’s voice. 

Ella straightened up with a start, and saw to her sur¬ 
prise that a rowboat had landed on the beach below the 
Point. The noise she had been making with her washing 
had prevented her from hearing the splash of oars, as the 
boat drew near the bank. 

With wondering eyes Ella beheld a tall, fine lady lay 
aside the oars, jump lightly to the shore, and draw the 
boat up on the beach not far from the rock on which the 
girl stood. 

With intuitive appreciation Ella took in all the details 
of dress, figure, and appearance of the strange lady who 
now stood before her. With apparent emotion the lady 
on her part stood looking down upon the astonished girl. 
But when the lady put her gloved hand on Ella’s head and 
pressed a kiss on her brow, astonishment gave way to con¬ 
fusion which brought roses into the girl’s pale cheeks. 

“You must be a useful little girl to be able to do such a 
washing at the age of twelve,” the lady remarked, smiling 
down upon the embarrassed Ella. “But, surely, these are 
not for you; you could never get into a garment like this,” 
she continued banteringly, picking up a little waist, shak¬ 
ing it out, and spreading it over an elderberry bush, in the 
vicinity of which other diminutive articles of clothing 
were spread out to dry. 




Ella’s Treasure 


64 

“No, indeed, that’s for little brother,” the girl replied, 
timidly looking up into the stranger’s face. 

Where and when had Ella seen those dark eyes and 
those regular, beautiful features before? 

With the guilty sense of one eating forbidden fruit she 
had often listened to old Mother Martha’s account of the 
Lady of the Woods who lived on Temple Cliff, and of the 
nymphs and fairies that occasionally visited Fair Point on 
moonlit nights. Was it possible that this fair lady was 
an apparition from the magic world of fairyland ? 

“So you have a little brother; how old is he, and what 
is his name?” the stranger asked with interest. 

“He is almost two years old, and his name is Esaias, 
but we call him Esse for short. He is a dear little boy, 
never cries in anger as I did when I was small, and he can 
talk almost as well as I can. And he is never rough when 
he plays with our old mama cat, Snow-White.” 

“Esaias! I like that name, for it is associated with one 
of the most precious memories of my life. And how are 
your mama and papa, my dear Ella?” 

“Mama is pretty well, but papa has been sick a long 
time. The doctor says that he can’t get well unless he 
makes a long stay at the health resort and takes the baths 
there.” 

“What’s that you tell me, child! Is Otto Leander sick? 
I’m sorry I didn’t know of it before.” 

“He had a bad accident,” Ella explained. 

“Tell me about it, dear.” 

“It was when Magistrate Norman’s house in Great 
Meadows burned down. Papa crawled in through a sec¬ 
ond story window to save their boy Carl, asleep in his 
room. It was one o’clock at night. He couldn’t wake 
Carl, so he picked him up ad carried him to the window, 


Ella’s Treasure 65 

and started down the ladder. But the hot fire had burned 
the ladder, so that it broke under them, and papa fell to 
the ground with the boy in his arms. Papa’s right knee 
struck against a stone, and he has been in bed ever since 
until this summer, when he began to walk about the house 
on crutches.” 

The strange lady listened with interest, manifestly 
deeply moved by the simple narrative, for her hand trem¬ 
bled as she steadied herself against an elm. 

“And the poor boy—he was injured too, I suppose?” 

“Not exactly,” Ella replied. “You see his papa caught 
him from papa’s arms. But he was so scared that he has 
been queer in the head ever since, and people say that he 
will never be right—but I don’t believe that.” 

“Great God!” whispered the lady. “Is this ‘the fruit 
of her hands'? Has God again demonstrated that ' What¬ 
soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap'?" 

So sober and silent was the strange lady, that Ella 
was startled, and made ready to steal away. 

“No, Ella; wait a moment,” the lady said. “I have 
more questions to ask you. Tell me, has Magistrate Nor¬ 
man paid you poor father’s doctor’s bills? But of course 
he must have done so.” 

“He sent his own team for the doctor, and paid for the 
first visit; but since then papa has had to pay the doctor’s 
bills. 

“Just like them!” the woman exclaimed under her 
breath; then louder she said: “I suppose your papa’s 
long illness has cost a great deal of money ?” 

“Yes,” Ella replied with a deep sigh. “The doctor 
had to come many, many times; otherwise papa would 
have lost his leg.” 


Ella’s Treasure . 5. 


66 


Ella’s Treasure 


Ella could hardly refrain from tears when she thought 
of her father’s long and severe suffering. But presently* 
she looked up brightly and said: “Mama, Grandma, and 
I prayer God that papa wouldn’t have to lose his leg, and 
God heard us. Now the doctor says that papa will get 
well if he can only take the baths, but it will be a long 
time before we have money enough for that.” 

“But, Ella, how could your papa meet all those ex¬ 
penses? He has been sick a year and a half, didn’t you 
say?” 

“He had money in the bank which he had saved to pay 
for some lumber that John Flood of Floodhurst hauled 
here to finish our cottage with. But the money went to 
pay the doctor, and Flood refused to take back the lumber, 
and so Crownie has to be sold to pay him,” Ella ended 
with a wail, as she burst into tears. 

“Your cow, your only cow! Has it come to that? But 
don’t cry any more, my dear,” she added soothingly. 
“Your parents, too, shall receive the fruit of their hands, 
and God will surely make that fruit so sweet to them as 
their deeds were to me. Come, Ella, cheer up; all will 
soon be well again,” she continued to the wonder and 
amazement of the child. “God has not forgotten you. 
‘Blessed is he that considereth the poor; Jehovah will de¬ 
liver him in the day of evil / That’s God’s promise to 
your parents, and to you, too, Ella dear. Don’t let your 
trust in God totter when you need it most. Surely, you 
have as much faith at twelve as you had at seven— 
haven’t you?” 

Ella stood looking up to the pretty lady with wonder¬ 
ing eyes. How could this unknown, beautiful woman 
have any interest in the state of affairs in her own pov¬ 
erty-stricken home? What could she know of the good 


Ella’s Treasure 07 

deeds of her parents? And how could she have such 
knowledge of Ella’s own name and age? 

These questions were written large in Ella’s eyes and 
face; but the kind unknown lady only smiled mysteri¬ 
ously, and would not answer them. 

“Come,” she said, beginning to gather the clothes and 
pile them in the basket; “I think these clothes will drjr 
quite as well in the attic as on these bushes, especially so 
near sundown. Let us bring them home. Mama and 
little Esse must be waiting; and I had almost forgotten 
grandma—how is she getting along?” 

So while they were picking down the clothes, Ella told 
about how good and kind grandma was, how she might 
have moved to her daughter, Aunt Anna, and lived there 
in comfort, but how she stayed on at Fair Point and 
lightened their trials by her cheerful disposition and con¬ 
stant toil. 

“No one can realize,” Ella continued with shining eyes, 
“what a help grandma is to mama. Grandma and I often 
put our heads together and think up some pleasant sur¬ 
prise to cheer up both papa and mama. I can’t see how 
we could get along without grandma.” 

“That’s the kind of a woman I thought Grandma Cath¬ 
erine was,” the lady remarked; “and like mother, like 
son. There now, the clothes are in the basket, let us carry 
it up to the house.” 

So saying, she briskly grasped one handle, while Ella 
grasped the other, and with the heavy basket tilted peril¬ 
ously between them they trudged along up the path to 
Fair Point Cottage. 

“Everything is just as neat as of old,” the lady re¬ 
marked when they entered the yard. “I see, however, 
that the house has not yet been weatherboarded.” 


68 


Ella’s Treasure 


“Papa was just going to do that when he was hurt,” 
Ella explained excusingly. “He was going to build an 
addition to Mr. Flood’s house at Floodhurst and take 
lumber in payment for his work. Then papa got sick 
and couldn’t do the work. But old John Flood had al¬ 
ready hauled the lumber to our place, and refused to take 
it back, but insisted on getting his money for it—and so 
papa has to sell Crownie to pay him. Old John has had 
his eye on Crownie for a long time, but papa kept hoping 
to get well so that he could go to work. But old John 
wouldn’t wait any longer, and so this morning I had to 
go over there and tell him that he could come and get 
Crownie, and oh-oh-oh, he is going to butcher her!” 

The last words were uttered with a wail so loud and 
heart-rending that it attracted the notice of the inmates 
of the cottage. Ella’s mother came running out to see 
what was the matter, but she stopped in her tracks when 
her eyes fell on the stranger by Ella’s side. 

“Am I awake or dreaming!” Gertrude cried. But be¬ 
fore she could continue she was smothered in the warm 
embrace of the stranger, who laughed and wept by turns. 

“Gertrude, Gertrude, dearest of friends! You are not 
dreaming. It is I, Marie, who would again enter your 
home, not heart-broken and despairing as before, but 
happy and grateful to God for His mercies. God be 
praised that I see your good, kind face again, Gertrude!” 

By this time the high-pitched voices and Ella’s wail 
had attracted the notice of the other inmates of the house. 
Grandma Catherine laid down her sleeping grandson and 
hastened to the door; Otto rose from his rocker, but had 
not taken more than a halting step or two before the two 
women stepped into the room. 


Ella’s Treasure 69 

Otto Leander, will you also recognize your old 
friend?” cried Marie with trembling voice, as she hurried 
forward to. grasp his hand. 

“Marie Elmwood! Is it possible!” he exclaimed, as 
Marie pressed him down into, his chair with gentle force 
and stood holding his two thin hands in her own. 

“Yes,” she quavered; “the poor, forsaken Marie, that 
was perishing body and soul when you extended a helping 
hand. God bless you, Otto! But I am no longer Marie 
Elmwood. Oakwtfod, not Elmwood, is now my name.” 
* “What’s that you say? Oakwood! Isn’t that the name 
of the new American owner.of North River Manor?” 

“That’s correct. His name is Oakwood, and I am his 
wife. That makes us neighbors, doesn’t it? I’m so glad 
to be back among my old friends and neighbors. 

“But Marie, you—” Gertrude began. 

“You’ll have to curb your curiosity, Gertrude, until 
I’ve greeted Grandma Catherine and looked you all over 
again. Then I’ll tell you my story, which is simply an 
account of God’s merciful dealings with me. You, Ger¬ 
trude, look about as you did when I saw you last—a 
little paler and thinner, perhaps. And you, Grandma, 
haven’t changed at all. Just as hale and hearty as ever! 
You’ll have to tell me the secret of how you manage it, 
some day. Otto and Ella, however, have changed greatly 
during the years I’ve been away. Ella is much taller now, 
but poor Otto has grown so thin and frail. The Lord has 
tried you severely, but remember that whom He loveth 
He reproveth.—Come here, my little laundress. Don’t 
you know who I am now, Ella?” 

“Yes, now I know, now I see!” cried Ella happily. 
“You are Aunt Marie, who long ago sat in the woods and 
cried. I Was only a little girl then, but I remember it 


Ella’s Treasure 


70 

well. I wondered and wondered when you called me by 
my name and knew how old I was. You have become a 
fine lady now’, Aunt Marie. You’ve got four gold rings 
on your fingers.” 

“I have your parents and yourself to thank even for 
them,” Marie declared. “But listen, Ella; I helped you 
with the washing, now you must promise to help me. Let 
us prepare some nice coffee like that you invited me to 
when you found me crying in the woods. Will you help 
me, Ella?” 

“I’ll be glad to!” cried Ella. “I’ll run right out intcf' 
the shed and fetch some wood. Grandma will be glad to 
get a cup, for she hasn’t had any all afternoon,” she added, 
giving grandma a pat as she darted past. 

“You little chatterbox! Must you tell everything you 
know?” Grandma exclaimed, bustling about to assist in 
the preparations. 

Marie took full charge of matters now; moved the 
little round table in front of the fireplace, studied its 
position a moment, then moved it a little nearer; spread 
a white tablecloth over it and arranged the cups, and 
finally took several mysterious packages from a dainty 
basket she had brought along. 

Then she turned to Otto, and said: “Now the table 
stands ready just where it stood that first evening long 
ago, don’t you think so, Otto?” 

“How can you expect me to remember a little thing 
like that?” laughed Otto. “I can’t even recall whether 
it is the same table or not.” 

“O, yes it is,” said Marie; “the very same table. I 
remember it all as though it were yesterday: your kind¬ 
ness, your generosity, Ella’s anxiety about a little white 


Ella’s Treasure 71 

coffin for Rosa, even the mama cat and her kitten—see, 
there they are as large as life!” 

Snow-white and her kitten, now old and staid, paid no 
attention to the flattering notice of Marie, but continued 
to wash their faces and purr contentedly in their corner 
by the fireside. 

The coffee was now ready, and Mrs. Oakwood took 
upon herself to play the part of hostess. After seeing to 
it that all were well supplied with the dainties she had 
brought, a brooding silence fell upon her. Since last she 
sat in this place, she had seen many homes of wealth and 
luxury, she was herself now the mistress of such a home; 
but the thought of what this humble home meant to her 
would never fade from her mind. In the hour of her 
deepest misery she had here found true-hearted friends—a 
merciful God and Father. Without permitting it to be 
noticed, her eyes took in the various details of her sur¬ 
roundings, the evidences of diminished prosperity about 
her. The curtains were just as white, but neatly darned 
in many places, chairs and other household furniture bore 
marks of wear and tear, the clothing of her friends was 
sadly worn and threadbare. But the greatest change she 
noticed was in Gertrude and Otto. There was a strained 
look in the former’s face, clearly testifying to the load of 
care and anxiety under which she labored. Otto’s pale, 
sunken features, and frail, bent form sent a pang of pain 
to her heart. She knew the origin of his suffering and 
want—her own nearest relatives—and at the thought of 
it her eyes were dimmed with tears of pity and remorse. 
But the hand of the Most High can work wonders, and 
she solemnly determined to offer herself as an instrument 
in the hand of God. 

Her musings were interrupted by Otto, who re- 


Ella’s Treasure 


72 

marked: “So your husband went to America, changed his 
name, and won a fortune, I suppose.” 

Marie silently shook her head, removed a plain gold 
ring from her finger, and handed it to Gertrude that she 
might read the inscription for herself. 

What is this, Marie? You are married for the second 
time!” Gertrude wonderingly exclaimed, while Otto sat 
there with a puzzled look on his face. 

“Yes, Gertrude; when my first husband at last broke 
the silence of years, and sent for me and my girls to come 
to distant America, I hoped that all my anxieties as to 
temporal matters were things of the past. Gladly we 
packed our few belongings, and set out for the far country 
beyond the seas. After a stormy and trying voyage we 
landed in New York, where I expected that my husband 
would be at hand to meet me. But instead, I was met by 
the awful news that he was dead, and I a widow—a 
widow in a strange and distant land with my fatherless 
children! But in that dark hour I remembered the divine 
promise: 'Jehovah perserveth the sojourners; He uphold - 
eth the fatherless and the widow’ ” 

Marie paused a moment to master her emotions, then 
continued: “And the Lord has kept His promise He 
has led me into paths strange and wonderful to me. 
Though my husband was dead, there was nothing for me 
to do but to continue my journey to the city where, he had 
been employed as bookkeeper at a large ironworks, and 
where he had prepared a home for me.—But you are for¬ 
getting your coffee, my friends, while listening to my poor 
story. Here, Grandma, you must try these cookies. No, 
they were not baked in America but in the great oven in 
the manor house kitchen, where you yourself, no doubt, 
have prepared many dainties for the table. Ella, you 


Ella’s Treasure 73 

haven’t lost your appetite, have you? And Gertrude, 
drink another cup of coffee while you listen to me.— 

“When I arrived with my little ones, I was therefore 
not altogether destitute, for besides our home there was a 
small sum in the savings bank for me. But alas, I would 
never see my husband whom I had promised to love and 
cherish, but whose life my proud, ambitious nature had 
so embittered! By means of correspondence we had mu¬ 
tually tried to atone for the past, but I would never have 
the opportunity of hearing words of forgiveness from his 
own lips, or of proving to him that the proud, self-willed 
Marie had by the grace of God become a different and, I 
trust, a better woman. One thought served to comfort 
me in my bereavement. I learned that my husband had 
won what was better than riches in the great land of 
promise of the New World—he had won the imperishable 
treasures of heaven. He died a Christian, committing his 
dear ones to the tender care of the loving Father whom he 
learned to know and serve. 

“The owner of the great ironworks was an old un¬ 
married gentleman whom God had blessed with abundant 
means, and who in turn devoted his entire wealth to the 
service of God and his fellow men. He took personal 
interest in the well-being of all his dependents, and en¬ 
deavored to further their spiritual as well as their material 
welfare. And so he permitted me to retain without rent 
the home Henry had furnished for me, and he also set 
aside a sum for the support of my children. To eke out 
my income I took in boarders, a laborious but profitable 
undertaking, which made it possible for me to pay back 
the money Henry had borrowed for my journey across the 
waters. 


74 


Ella’s Treasure 


“But my trials were not yet over. Both my girls took 
sick with scarlet fever, I lost my boarders, and my small 
savings melted away entirely. Then the kind old man, 
who had befriended me, suddenly died, and all his wealth 
came into the possession of his nephew, who was superin¬ 
tendent of one of his uncle’s steel mills in another city. 
You can imagine my anxiety as to the attitude of this new 
owner toward me and mine! At first I saw him only at a 
distance, coming to and from his office at the works. 
With fear I awaited the day when he would bid me va¬ 
cate the home that had been mine since my coming to 
America. One day I almost encountered him near the 
gate of the works, but he turned aside as if seeking to 
avoid me. From the glimpse I caught of him he seemed 
sad and preoccupied, and rather austere in manner. By 
reputation, however, he seemed to be following in the 
footsteps of his uncle, so I bided my time and hoped for 
the best. 

“The days and weeks that followed were full of 
anxiety for me. I had no way of knowing if he were 
acquainted with the terms on which I occupied his house, 
or if he would feel disposed to continue those arrange¬ 
ments. Therefore the very thought of him filled my heart 
with dread. But I could not linger in this uncertainty; I 
must learn what my fate was to be. So I took my cour¬ 
age in both hands, and sought an interview with him in 
his office. 

“When I think of it now, I don’t know whether to 
laugh or cry at the strangeness of our meeting. There I 
had him cornered—I, the timid, defenseless woman; he, 
the mighty man of wealth and position! Where had I 
seen that face before, those eyes so full of repressed feel¬ 
ing? Or was it only fancy, that somewhere in bygone 


Ella’s Treasure 75 

days I had met this man before? Silent and perplexed I 
confronted him. Had my life depended on it, I could 
not have broken the silence. He, too, was silent for 
some moments, but seemed to know me as soon as his 
eyes fell on me. Finally he spoke: 

“Your have something to say to me, Mrs. Elmwood. 
Let me hear what it is.” 

The voice seemed just as familiar as his features, but 
try as I would, I could not place him. In broken English 
I stammered forth my story, and begged him to let me 
retain my little home, promising to use my best endeavors 
to pay the rent regularly. 

He asked me in a kind tone of voice what rent I had 
been paying hitherto, and when I blushingly confessed 
that I had not paid any rent at all he smiled sadly and 
said: 

“And do you think that I can take the bread out of the 
mouths of widows and orphans? How could I justify 
such action before God whom I try to serve? Remain in 
your home as long as you desire, Mrs. Elmwood, and I 
hope that you will take it in good part if I increase the 
pension my uncle gave you, so that you will have more 
time to devote to the bringing up of your children.” 

“No, no!” I cried; “I couldn’t accept that. I am able 
and willing to work for the support of my children.” 

“You see, my friends; much of the old sinful pride still 
lingered in my heart in spite of the trials I had gone 
through. Well, there the man stood looking down on me 
with a smile so strangely familiar that I felt tempted to 
cry out a name—” 

“What name, my dear child?” asked Grandma Cath¬ 
erine, unable longer to repress her curiosity. 


76 Ella’s Treasure 

Without pausing to answer, Marie continued her 
story: 

“But no, the thing was impossible, I thought! This 
wealthy, noble-looking American could have nothing in 
common with the man whose name trembled on my lips. 

“ ‘I believe, Mrs. Elmwood, that you had better pocket 
your pride,’ he said gently. ‘You look pale and worn, and 
you will need all the strength you have to take proper 
care of your little girls. And besides,’ he added softly, ‘I 
am offering you this help for Christ’s sake!’ 

“His whole attitude toward me was that of a brother, 
and I could not hold out against him. So I returned to 
the home I no longer need fear to lose, my heart filled 
with gratitude to God for His lovingkindness toward a 
poor widow and her fatherless children. 

“From that day strength and courage returned to me, 
and my heart no longer harbored anxious care as an un¬ 
bidden guest. The hard schooling I had passed through 
now made me content and happy in my humble surround¬ 
ings. My simple little home was a palace in comparison 
with the wretched quarters I had here. And oh, Otto, 
how often your parting words came to cheer and strengthen 
me! Though often disguised, God’s goodness and mercy 
have followed me always. God grant that I may find 
power to serve him as long as I live!” 

“But Aunt Marie,” cried Ella, taking advantage of the 
pause; “did that rich young man also love Jesus?” 

“Yes, Ella, that he did. Though a man of great 
wealth, he was a humble follower of Jesus Christ. ,Then 
and up to this very day he has proved himself by word 
and deed a true Christian. 

“I’m glad of that; but it seems strange to me,” mused 
Ella, a look of doubt in her face. 


Ella’s Treasure 


77 

“Why so, Ella dear? Why does that seem strange to 
you?” Marie inquired, a smile hovering about her lips. 

“Because the Bible says that not many mighty, not 
many noble are called,” declared Ella confidently. 

“But, Ella, the Bible doesn’t say that none of these are 
called. And I can assure you that in spite of his wealth 
and his position in life he places his trust in God, and re¬ 
gards himself as the steward of God in the management 
of his earthly possessions.” 

“I would like to see a rich man like that,” Ella declared 
artlessly. 

“Would you indeed, Ella?” Marie asked playfully. 

“Yes, I would. I have seen many high and fine gen¬ 
tlemen at North River Manor, but they looked so haughty 
and great that I was scared of them.” 

“Poor Ella!” laughed Marie. “That’s not the kind of 
a man I am talking about. The more I learned to know 
him, the greater became my regard and respect for him. 

“He visited my home occasionally, but he was always 
accompanied by his old head bookkeeper, who resembled 
his master in his interest for the poor and needy. Strange 
as it may seem, our talk generally turned upon religious 
topics; and as he discovered that we were on the ground 
of common interest, his reserve and austerity gave way 
to open frankness and cordiality. 

“One day he came alone while my girls were at school. 
I was occupied at the time in sewing a silk dress for a 
fine lady, and my thoughts were busy musing on the 
strange resemblance of my benefactor to some one I had 
known in former years. 

“After having inquired into the state of health of my¬ 
self and the children, he sat for some time silently watch- 


78 Ella’s Treasure 

ing me at my work. Finally he asked if I was sewing so 
busily for myself. 

“ ‘No,’ I replied; ‘I am sewing a dress for Mrs. Hart, 
who lives in the fine house on the avenue.’ 

“ ‘Send it to a seamstress,’ he said, calmly taking the 
dress out of my hands. ‘Or perhaps you find it necessary 
to take in sewing in order to support yourself?’ 

“ ‘No, indeed,’ I replied; ‘God and you, my kind bene¬ 
factor, have amply provided for me and mine. But Mrs. 
Hart has shown me many a kindness, and I am taking 
this means to repay her.’ 

“My benefactor looked about the simple but comfort¬ 
able room in which he sat; then, suddenly turning to me, 
he asked: 

“ ‘Don’t you find your quarters here rather small and 
lacking in conveniences?’ 

“‘Certainly not!’ was my astonished reply. ‘Thanks 
to you, my little home is as neat and cozy as I could de¬ 
sire. I have told you something of my sinful pride of 
former days, and you must admit that God has dealt far 
more kindly with me than I deserve.’ 

“‘Deserve!’ he exclaimed sadly. ‘And what have I 
done to deserve the wealth and abundance that are mine? 
Absolutely nothing! It all came to me by inheritance, 
and in my loneliness I am finding it more of a burden 
than a source of happiness. If I had someone to share it 
with me, things w T ould be different. But now—’ 

“Confused and alarmed by the turn the conversation 
was taking, I plunged in without really knowing what I 
was saying: ‘It does seem strange that you live all alone, 
Mr. Oakwood. What you need and deserve is a wife 
such as the mother of King Lemuel describes—one whose 
price is far above rubies.’ 


79 


Ella’s Treasure 

“I broke off in utter confusion when I became aware 
of the roguish smile lurking in his eyes. 

“ ‘Such a woman as you are, Marie,’ he uttered softly. 
‘Don’t you remember me from the days when we were 
youth and maiden together at home across the waters? 
I sought your love then, but you wouldn’t have it. After 
all these years God has brought us together again. Don’t 
you think He has a meaning with it all? You recognize 
me now, Marie, don’t you?’ 

“Yes, I recognized him then. I had not been mistaken 
as to the striking resemblance. And so after letting me reap 
the bitter fruit of my hands, God now permitted my cup 
to overflow with peace and happiness. Deep down in my 
heart I had always loved the youth whom my pride and 
vanity had flaunted. And so, my friends, it came about 
that I am Mrs. Oakwood.” 

“O, Aunt Marie!. Did you really marry the fine gen¬ 
tleman who was so rich?” cried Ella, ablaze with inter¬ 
est. “And do your little girls have a new papa now, and 
is he good to them ?” 

“Yes to all your questions, Ella dear. My little girls 
are no longer without a good, kind father. We must ar¬ 
range that you meet him soon, so that you can see for 
yourself that he is not so stern and haughty as those 
other rich men you have seen.” 

“I can hardly believe it yet,” declared Ella doubtfully. 

“But wasn’t he an American, and where had you met 
him in this country?” Gertrude wonderingly asked, try¬ 
ing to unravel the puzzling web of the story she had 
heard. 

“No,” Marie replied; “he was of our own nationality, 
Gertrude. Oakwood was the name his uncle assumed 


8o 


Ella’s Treasure 


when he came to America, and by the provisions of the 
will my husband also adopted it.” 

“I have never heard of anything so interesting in real 
life!” exclaimed Grandma Catherine. “I used to read 
about such things in books and papers, but I never be¬ 
lieved that they actually happened.” 

“But where are your little girls and their new papa, 
Mrs. Oakwood?.” Ella eagerly asked, not able to dismiss 
the thought from her mind that Aunt Marie’s little girls 
were no longer without a father. 

“My little girls accompanied me to North Rivejr 
Manor, but they were too tired from the long journey to 
come with me to-day; and as for my husband, business 
matters detained him in G. where we landed, and he will 
not reach the Manor before Friday. But you mustn’t call 
me Mrs. Oakwood, Ella. Won’t you let me be your 
Aunt Marie as before? To-morrow you must come up 
to the Manor and meet my girls. They are waiting im¬ 
patiently to see and make friends with Ella Leander of 
whom they have so often heard me speak.” 

Ella’s face flushed with eagerness and joy. The one 
disturbing thought was that these fine American misses 
might not care to associate with poor, shabby Ella Le¬ 
ander. 

“The ways of the Lord are indeed wonderful,” Otto 
remarked; “but goodness and mercy characterize them 
all.” 

“Let us talk about olden times,” proposed Mrs. Oak- 
wood, when the conversation threatened to lag. “I 
should like to hear something about the friends of my 
girlhood days.” 

By turns Otto and Gertrude told all the news they 


Ella’s Treasure 


could think of. Finally the former turned to Mrs. Oak- 
wood and remarked: 

“There is one old acquaintance about whom you have 
made no inquiry. He was the finest boy in our neighbor¬ 
hood in those days, and the best also, as I should know 
who was his closest friend. In person and character he 
differed greatly from the rest of us. One fault he had. 
He was too much of a thinker to accept without question 
the simple gospel of Jesus Christ. He and I had many 
heated debates, in which, I must confess, he always got 
the best of me. At first he followed farming, for he re¬ 
fused to enter the steel mills, and so did I for that matter. 
But afterwards he obtained a position in the office, where 
he made rapid progress because of his skill at figures. For 
some reason, however, he suddenly became distant and 
reserved, dropped his old acquaintances, and finally left 
the neighborhood to accept a position of trust at a large 
iron works up north. He wrote to us at first, but of 
late years I have lost all traces of him.” 

While Otto was speaking, Gertrude sat closely watch¬ 
ing Marie, who for some reason did not seem inclined to 
meet her gaze. 

“What was his name?” Marie at last asked in a 
tone of seeming indifference. 

“Victor Ekskog; he was the son of a blacksmith at the 
mills, who died when Victor was a boy. Surely, you 
must remember him, Marie!” Otto added. “People said 
that you two—” 

“Were fond of each other,” Marie added, finishing the 
sentence. “And so we were; and so we are to this day. 
Look!” 

Drawing forth a medallion suspended from a gold 
chain about her neck, she opened it and showed them the 


Ella's Treasure . 6. 


82 Ella’s Treasure 

picture of a handsome, rather sober-looking young man. 
man. 

“This,” she remarked, “is Mr. Oakwood of North 
River Manor, or, in our mother tongue, Victor Ekskog. 

“I knew it, I knew it!” cried Gertrude. “It’s Victor, 
large as life! But how refined and stately he has be¬ 
come!” 

Surprised out of his calm, Otto seized the medallion and 
brought it nearer to his eyes for closer inspection. 

“Dear old friend Victor!” he murmured feelingly. 
“Have you won what you pined for, at last? I knew the 
painful secret of your heart. So now you have returned 
to the old home surroundings which you vowed you 
would never look upon again—returned as the powerful 
owner of North River Manor, and, best of all, as a hum¬ 
ble follower of Jesus Christ!” 

“It’s as I have always said,” exclaimed Grandma Cath¬ 
erine; “surprises never cease! Can it be possible that 
Victor had an uncle in America? I remember that his 
father had one brother, but as a boy he didn’t amount to 
anything, and one spring he suddenly disappeared. Peo¬ 
ple said that he had drowned himself in the lake. 

“But instead he went to America,” remarked Marie, 
smiling at the thought of Andrew Oakwood as a good- 
for-nothing. “In America he soon came to be regarded 
as a genius.” 

“I never heard the like!” cried Grandma Catherine. 
“To think that Andrew, whose head was. always full of 
strange notions, made a man of himself at last! Marie— 
I mean Mrs.—hm—my stiff old tongue can’t say it 
right—” 

“Never mind, Grandma dear! To my dear old friends 
I am now as of old simply Marie.” 


Ella’s Treasure 83 

“Well, as I was saying,” continued Grandma Cath¬ 
erine, “Andrew’s head was full of queer notions. He 
didn’t want to work in the smithy, but he was always 
meddling with what the other workmen were doing. I 
remember once when the old Baron was living—I was 
kitchen maid at the Manor then, served there for six 
years till I got married—the Baron was watching the 
men heat and hammer out great sheets of iron. He was 
cross and ugly because the new bellows, for which he had 
paid a pretty penny, wasn’t working right, and no one 
seemed to understand what the trouble was. Then, 
whether you believe me or not, that boy Andrew stepped 
up to the Baron, as though he was an expert machinist, 
and declared that the man who had put up the bellows 
didn’t understand his business, but that he could fix mat¬ 
ters in a jiffy. Then things began to happen. The old 
Baron almost exploded with anger, caught the lad a blow 
behind the ear that sent him head first into a pile of scrap 
iron, and ordered him never to set foot within the shops 
again. From that day he was never seen again, and though 
his body could not be found, people said that he had 
drowned himself. But as for the bellows, it never did 
work until they did what the lad said ought to be done. 
But who could think that Andrew went off to America! 
So many strange things are happening, that it’s easy to 
see that we are living in the last times. Let me have a 
look at the picture, Marie.—Yes, sure as you live, that’s 
the lad! Many a slice of bread and butter I gave him 
when he came to play with my Otto. You should have 
seen all the sawmills and blacksmith shops those two boys 
built!” 

“Yes,” said Marie, “Victor has told me all about those 
old days. On Friday he will be here to renew old mem- 


Ella’s Treasure 


84 

ories. How delightful it will be to witness his meeting 
with his old friends!” 

“I’ll never dare to open my mouth,” Grandma Cath¬ 
erine declared. “The wealthy owner of North River 
Manor is quite a different individual from the Victor I 
used to know when he worked for wages at the mills.” 

“He’ll always be plain Victor to his old friends,” 
Marie assured her. She was about to say more, when she 
was interrupted by the noisy opening of the outer door. 


CHAPTER NINE 
Crown for Crown. 

“Good evening to all of you,” quavered a thin, shrill 
voice from the door. 

There stood an old man, bent with years. Thin strands 
of gray hair hung down over his red, watery eyes, and 
his shrunken mouth had almost disappeared between his 
pendent nose and protruding chin. He had on a suit of 
threadbare homespun, and a smooth-worn leather apron 
hung down to his knees. 

“Good evening, Father John,” Otto Leander replied, 
in a friendly tone, but with a look of sadness in his eyes. 

Ella shot out through the kitchen door, sobbing heart- 
brokenly as she closed the door behind her. 

The old man stepped from one to another in the room, 
repeating his greeting, and extending a hand that appar¬ 
ently was a stranger to soap and water. When he came to 
Mrs. Oakwood, his dim old eyes peered at her curiously, 
but she motioned to Gertrude not to reveal her identity. 

Grandma Catherine offered him a chair by Otto’s side, 


Ella’s Treasure 85 

into which he sank stiffly, leaning his elbows on his knees, 
and thumbing his slouchy old hat nervously. 

For several minutes all sat in silence, and it was evident 
that an air of depression pervaded the room. 

“You want to sell the cow, they tell me,” the old man 
finally remarked in a tone that he tried to make as casual 
as possible. 

“I wouldn’t say that we want to,” Otto retorted coldly. 
“It’s our only cow, as you very well know, John. But 
necessity knows no law\ If you can’t give us more time 
I suppose we will have to let you take the cow. Can’t I 
induce you to change your mind about taking back the 
lumber?” 

“Take back the lumber, you say! I’d be a fool to take 
it back after being exposed to wind and weather all this 
time. I’ve got your note for eighty crowns, and that 
means money, not lumber, for me.” 

“It’s a sorry business all around. I wish now that I 
hadn’t entered into it,” sighed Otto. 

“It isn’t any better to have claims that you can’t col¬ 
lect,” whined old John. “He who knows that he can’t 
pay shouldn’t get into debt. You saved the son of that 
skinflint at Great Meadows, but look what thanks you 
got for it!” 

“I’ll never regret what I did then,” Otto declared; 
“but my dealings with you I’ve been sorry for more than 
once.” 

“What’s done can’t be undone; and now we’d better 
settle the matter. What do you ask for the cow?” 

“Can’t you wait till in the morning? It’s almost dark 
now, and you ought to see the cow before you buy her. 
Besides, I sent you word to come to-morrow.” 


86 


Ella’s Treasure 


“I’ll wait no longer. As for the cow, I’ve seen her 
often enough. How long do you want me to keep com¬ 
ing here morning and night? We’ll settle this matter 
now, and I’ll send for the cow in the morning. Come, 
name your price!” 

“She’s worth seventy-five crowns, I’m sure.” 

“I’ll never give it! Seventy-five crowns for a cow 
that’s ready to die of old age! Sixty crowns is all she’d 
bring in the market. If you’re an honest man you’ll not 
ask a penny more,” cried old John. 

“Yes, I claim to be an honest man, and seventy-five 
crowns is a fair price. The cow is only seven years old 
and in good condition. I was offered that price for her 
last spring, and—” 

“Last spring! The price of beef has fallen way down 
since then. Either the cow or my money to-morrow— 
that’s my last word,” snapped the old man angrily. 

“I will give a hundred crowns for the cow,” said a 
quiet voice coming from the sofa in the corner; “and here 
are your eighty crowns, my good man.” With these 
words Marie Oakwood rose and now stood confronting 
the astonished John. 

“Who are you to meddle in my affairs!” cried John, 
harshly, his watery eyes flashing with anger. 

“She is the new owner of North River Manor, Mrs. 
Oakwood from America,” said Gertrude calmly. 

A moment John Flood stood there with mouth agape, 
then he whined: 

“It makes no difference to me who she is. This is my 
business, not hers. If she were the Queen herself, she 
couldn’t prevent me from claiming my own. No one can 
trifle with John Flood of Floodhurst! And besides, if 
she has any sense, she’ll never give a hundred crowns for 


Ella’s Treasure t 87 

that old cow. What does a fine woman like that know 
about cows, anyhow?” 

“If Otto Leander accepts my offer, the cow is mine 
even if I don’t know so much about cows. Here is your 
money, my good man, and the business is ended.” 

Far from being irritated by old John’s rudeness, Mrs. 
Oakwood entered into the humor of the situation, happy 
in the thought that she was thwarting his greed and com¬ 
ing to the aid of her friends. 

All this while Ella had been peeping and listening 
through a crack in the door. Now she burst into the 
room, her tear-stained face ablaze with excitement as she 
threw her arms about Mrs. Oakwood and cried: 

“O Aunt Marie! Will Crownie find a home at the 
Manor, and will you save her from being slaughtered? 
Promise me, Auntie, that I can come up and see her once 
a week!” 

“Wait a moment, child, till we settle this matter. 
Well, Otto, do you accept my offer?” 

“We can’t take a hundred crowns. That’s more than 
she is worth,” Otto declared positively. 

“Then I’ll give eighty,” cried old John eagerly. “You 
who can read the Bible better than a preacher know that 
it’s sin to take more than a thing is worth.” 

“Not if it’s offered freely and without compulsion,” 
said Mrs. Oakwood gently. “What do you say, Otto; is 
the cow mine?” 

“O Papa!” cried Ella. “Let Auntie have her. Then 
the cruel butchers will never get my Crownie.” 

“I’d be foolish not to accept your offer, Marie,” said 
Otto; “and I thank you for your kindness. Well, Ella, 
I suppose you are happy now? To-morrow we’ll let you 
escort Crownie to her new home.” 


88 


Ella’s Treasure 


Old John stood there crestfallen and sadly disappointed 
when Marie placed the eighty crowns in his hands—hands 
that were ever open to acquire, but never willing to give 
of the abundance that his greed had accumulated during a 
long life of sharp dealings with his fellow men. For once 
he had been beaten in a transaction; so there was nothing 
to do but to accept the money, cancel the note, assume the 
air of injured innocence, and make the best of a bad bar* 
gain. 

As he was preparing to go, Gertrude, at a nod from 
Marie, offered him a cup of warm coffee, which he ac¬ 
cepted with many protestations of thanks. 

When he arose to depart, Mrs. Oakwood gently laid 
her hand on his shoulder and said: 

“John Flood, I feel sorry for you—” 

“Oh, I’ll manage to keep out of the poorhouse—” he 
began. 

“A moment, John! I mean that I’m sorry to see an old 
man on the brink of the grave so moved by greed that he 
does not hesitate to injure honest people overtaken by 
adversity. If I remember rightly, you were always regu¬ 
lar in your church attendance. Then you must know that 
love of money is the root of all evil. You have labored 
and slaved for sixty years for the perishable things of this 
world. Don’t you think it high time to begin to seek for 
the imperishable treasures of heaven?” 

While she was speaking, old John, amazed and dumb¬ 
founded, had retreated toward the door. In her eager¬ 
ness to help him, Mrs. Oakwood followed and pleaded 
with him to forsake his sinful life and flee to God. 

“Heavens and earth!” he cried in a tone of alarm. “I’m 
no worse than other men. We’re all sinners, for that 
matter, and I’m only trying to get what rightly belongs 


Ella’s Treasure 89 

to me. But who are you who seem to know me so well? 
There is something about you that seems familiar.” 

“Of course there is,” smiled Mrs. Oakwood. “I’m 
Marie of Great Meadows, a sister of Magistrate Nor¬ 
man’s wife, and a daughter of your old friend Carl Clark¬ 
son of Great Meadows.” 

“Gracious me! Are you Marie that married Henry of 
Elmwood? But he lost all he had, didn’t he? I might 
have known that you were used to throwing money right 
and left. But where have you been since then? O yes, 
I remember now that Mrs. Leander said you had married 
the rich American who bought the Manor. Be careful, 
Otto, how you enter into business deadings with folks 
whom nobody knows. No telling how they got their 
money. Well, good night, Otto. I’ll send you a drop of 
milk in the morning. When the fine lady takes the cow, 
there’ll be a long time between milkings, I’m afraid. 
Much obliged for the coffee. Good night, good night!” 

When the old man had closed the door, Marie burst 
into peals of laughter. 

“I know it’s wrong to laugh,” she said; “but his opinion 
of me and his sudden generosity toward you were so comi¬ 
cal. Poor old man! I’m ashamed of my laughter. I 
ought rather to weep over him.” 

“Well, I think you gave him something to ponder 
on,” Gertrude remarked. 

“I hope and pray that the Spirit of God will speak to 
his heart better than I could,” said Marie soberly.— 
“Cheer up, Otto; don’t look so sober any more.” 

“ ‘I wound, and I heal,’ saith the Lord,” murmured 
Otto, extending his hand to Marie. “O Marie, never 
did we think this morning, when we laid our wants be¬ 
fore God, that He would send you as an angel to our aid! 


Ella’s Treasure 


90 

I’m troubled, however, to think that you paid so much 
for our Crownie.” 

“Don’t let that trouble you, friend Otto. The old man 
would finally have given you eighty; and I had to outbid 
him, you know.” 

“But for you, he would never have offered me eighty 
crowns.” 

“Well, let’s drop the matter now. Gertrude will 
know what to do with the extra money, and now that 
you are out of debt I want to see you smile again.” 

And Otto did feel that a burden had been lifted from 
his shoulders. His growing debts had caused him count¬ 
less days and nights of anxiety. But now his heart was 
light again, and he looked more hopefully upon the future. 

But to Gertrude there was still cause for secret 
anxiety. Without Crownie she dreaded to think of the 
future, for the support of the family would now rest more 
heavily than before on her worn and sagging shoulders. 
She would, of course, not allow an inkling of her worries 
to reach her patient, long-suffering husband, and she was 
truly grateful to Marie for her timely help. 

Ella’s joy, however, was unmixed by any anxious 
thoughts of the future. 

“I’m so happy,” she cried, “that Crownie will be al¬ 
lowed to live. How good and kind you are, Aunt Marie. 
Send Sarah down to fetch Crownie. If I walk on ahead 
with a bread crust in my hand, she will follow me to the 
end of the world.” 

“I don’t think I will send for Crownie at all,” said 
Mrs. Oakwood, taking Ella’s happy face between her 
hands. “What if Crownie should get lonesome among 
all the strange cows at the Manor, and begin to long for 
her little mistress! So I think I’ll leave her here for you 


Ella’s Treasure 


9 


to take care of. There now, let me finish what I have to 
say. Suppose you accept Crownie in payment of my debt 
to you, Ella?” 

“Debt to me, Auntie—how you talk!” exclaimed Ella, 
her eyes large with wonder. 

“Don’t you remember. It’s well, then, that my mem¬ 
ory is better than yours. You certainly cannot have for¬ 
gotten the great treasure you gave to the “sad lady” you 
found in the woods—a treasure that made her rich be- 
yound compare. Crownie is yours, and I consider it a 
small price to pay for what you gave me.” 

“Are you really in earnest, Auntie?” asked Ella, doubt- 
ingly. 

“Do you think that I am making sport of you?” pouted 
Mrs. Oakwood, pretending to feel hurt. “Come, Ger¬ 
trude, help me convince your doubting daughter that I 
am in full earnest.” % 

“I scarcely know what to say,” stammered Gertrude. 
“Can’t you help me, Otto?” 

But Otto shook his head and smiled. 

“Crownie stays here,” said Mrs. Oakwood firmly. 
“From this moment she belongs to Ella, and I wish you 
joy in your new possession, my dear.” 

“Really and truly, Auntie?” cried Ella. 

“Really and truly, Ella; provided you think better of 
me than old John does.” 

“Crownie is mine! Crownie is mine!” she sang, danc¬ 
ing over to the couch where Esse lay sleeping. 

“Esse, wake up! Wake up, I say! Crownie is mine, 
and you’ll get all the milk you can drink.” 

Esse opened his sleepy eyes, caught the infection of 
Ella’s happiness, and began to dance about the room with 


92 Ella’s Treasure 

her, even though he did not comprehend what it was all 
about. 

Marie caught him up in her lap, and they were soon 
the best of friends, especially after she had permitted him 
to hold her gold watch and listen to its ticking. 

There was still a matter to be cleared up in Ella’s 
mind, so she whispered in Mrs. Oakwood’s ear: “What 
did you mean by the treasure that I gave you, Auntie?” 

By way of reply Mrs. Oakwood drew forth a small 
Bible that gave evidence of diligent use. 

“Do you recognize this book, Ella?” she asked. 

“Isn’t it the little Bible I gave you?” Ella exclaimed. 
“When you are so rich, why haven’t you bought a fine 
new Bible?” 

“O, I have other Bibles, but I love this one best, and I 
always carry it with me,” she replied. 

“Why, Auntie, that Bible only cost a crown!” 

“And a Crown I have given you for it,” she replied. 
“That makes a Crown for a crown, doesn’t it?” 

“But there’s a difference in crowns,” said Ella, a puz¬ 
zled expression in her face. 

“Ella dear,” said Mrs. Oakwood, folding the girl in 
her arms; “through the Bible you gave me I have won a 
better crown—the crown of life. So you see I have still 
the best of the bargain. Look, here is the picture card 
that was in it. Can you read the words?” 

“Jehovah will he thine everlasting light, and the days 
of thy mourning shall be ended ” read Ella. 

“O Auntie,” she exclaimed, “the words are true of all 
of us! We are all happy now, aren’t we?” 

“But, Marie, your generosity goes too far,” Otto pro¬ 
tested. 

“Why, I’m ashamed of you, Otto! God has heard your 


Ella’s Treasure 


93 

prayers, that’s all. Or, perhaps, you haven’t prayed God 
to help you?” 

“Every day,” replied Otto, with a wan smile. 

“Then let God help you in His own way, and don’t 
interpose any objections,” Marie replied firmly. 

“I’ll not say a word until to-morrow,” sobbed Ger¬ 
trude. “To-day it all seems like a dream,” she added, 
hiding her face in her hands. 

“Auntie, does it make you happy or sad to be rich?” 
asked Ella, as if to settle a mooted point. 

“A little of both, child. But why do you ask?” 

“Because the Bible says that it is hard for a rich man 
to enter into the kingdom of heaven, and you want to go 
to heaven, don’t you, Auntie?” 

“Indeed I do, my child. But now that God has given 
me riches, what do you suppose He means for me to do 
with them?” 

“O, I see now!” cried Ella, clapping her hands. “God 
wants you to use your riches to make other people happy, 
just as you have done to us.” 

“That’s right, my dear. God wants me to drive away 
the sorrow from a little girl’s heart, when she is threat¬ 
ened with the loss of her beloved Crownie.” 

“You have driven sorrow from more hearts than that 
of a little girl,” sobbed Gertrude. “God bless you for the 
good angel you are! If all the people of God would fol¬ 
low your example, the danger of earthly riches would not 
be so great.” 

“The danger is greater than you think, Gertrude,” 
Mrs. Oakwood declared. “O, I am so happy with Vic¬ 
tor, and so contented with the comforts I enjoy, that I 
often cease to feel the childlike dependence on God that 
was mine before earthly riches were showered on me. I 


Ella’s Treasure 


94 

am growing to love the comforts and even the luxuries of 
life. You know I always did love pretty clothes and such 
things. Tell me the truth, Otto. Do you think that 1 
am a Christian, and that I can remain a Christian as I 
now live?” 

Otto sat musing a while in silence; then he looked up 
with a smile and said: 

“I believe that now as of old the ways of the Lord are 
grace and truth. When He saw that worldly riches stood 
in the way of your soul’s salvation, He deprived you of 
them, and sent you poverty and sorrow. But now that 
He has gained His purpose with you, He has given you 
even greater riches than before, that you might use them 
to the glory of His name. I admit that the Word of 
God points out the grave danger of earthly riches, and 
that the rich need to be doubly on their guard. But some 
must be the stewards of God even with respect to the 
things of this life, and I think that we can safely trust 
God to select His own stewards, and to keep them faith¬ 
ful to Himself. If you were given the choice between 
Christ and earthly riches, would there be any doubts as 
to how you would choose?” 

“O, no, no, Otto! Rather lose all the world’s wealth 
than to lose my Saviour! I can live and be happy with¬ 
out riches. He is the Rock of my salvation!” 

Just then they were interrupted by Grandma Catherine, 
who entered the room with a foaming pail of milk. 
Shortly after old John came, she had gone out to milk 
Crownie for the last time, and for the last time to give 
her the care and attention that she firmly believed Crownie 
would never get again. Long she lingered in the stall, 
cooing over her pet and rubbing her glossy neck. Were 
the truth knowm, Ella was not alone in shedding tears of 


Ella’s Treasure 95 

sorrow and regret in this hour of parting. Nevertheless, 
when she entered the living-room, she proudly, almost de¬ 
fiantly, displayed the brimming pail of milk. 

“Look at this!” she exclaimed. “All this milk from a 
cow that came fresh so long ago as last April! What a 
skinflint old John is not to be willing to pay the full 
price for a cow like Crownie!” 

“Grandma, Grandma!” cried Ella, swinging grandma 
around so that the floor was spattered with milk. 
“Crownie is mine! Crownie is mine! Old John shan’t 
have even one little bit of her!” 

“Gracious me! What possesses the child! Stop it, 
Ella! Don’t you see that you have spattered milk over 
Mrs. Oakwood’s dress?” 

“But Crownie is mine, Grandma. You may believe it 
or not, but Aunt Marie has given me Crownie for my 
very own.” 

“What’s got into the child!” grandma cried impa¬ 
tiently. “Either she or I have a screw loose somewhere.” 

Both Ella and Mrs. Oakwood had all they could do to 
make matters clear to Grandma Catherine. They even 
had to appeal to Otto and Gertrude to verify their words. 
When the truth finally dawned on her, she sank down 
upon the couch, dazed by the startling news. 

“Nothing matters now!” she exclaimed. “To think 
that old John didn’t get Crownie, upon whom he has 
cast greedy eyes ever since she came to us! It’s nothing 
less than a miracle! God be praised for His mercies!” 

“ ‘Ere we believe, our need God sees, 

And grants us happiness and peace.’ ” 

“God forgive us for harboring wicked thoughts about 
old John! There, Ella, let an old woman weep and re- 


Ella’s Treasure 


g6 

lieve her feelings. Isn’t it like God to act like that? But 
shame to say, I didn’t think it of Him!” 

“How funny grandma is!” cried Ella. “When things 
go wrong she only laughs; but when she ought to laugh, 
she weeps.” 

For a while Grandma Catherine’s tears continued to 
flow, but presently her face cleared as a sky from which 
every cloud has fled. Picking up the pail of milk, she 
turned to Mrs. Oakwood and said: 

“Dear Mrs.—I mean Marie! How happy it must 
make you to give happiness to others! God bless and 
prosper you!” 

Then she turned abruptly, lest more tears should flow, 
and vanished through the door leading to the kitchen. 

Mrs. Oakwood’s eyes were bright with unshed tears as 
she turned to Ella, and said: 

“Now you’ll come to see my girls to-morrow, won’t 
you? They already regard you as their best friend. And, 
Ella, don’t bother your little head about your dress,” she 
added when she saw Ella glance furtively at her plain 
dress. 

“O, I’ve got a better dress than this,” Ella remarked; 
“but I’ve outgrown it, and Mama had to add a hem to it 
of different cloth, so that it doesn’t look so nice now.” 

“Come here, my dear; let me tell you something about 
my little girls before I go. Since I married Victor, they 
have had a nice room of their own with a closet for their 
clothes. Among their other dresses there are two that 
occupy conspicuous places ; one is a shabby white cotton 
dress now almost yellow with age, the other is a flowered 
gingham, faded and in tatters. Whenever my girls pout 
about the state of their wardrobe, I lead them to the 
closet and show them these mementos of former days of 


Ella’s Treasure 


97 


poverty and want, and I ask them if they would like to 
have those days back again. I also tell them how God 
once punished their mother for sinful pride. They usu¬ 
ally remember the lesson a long time, Ella, and so must 
you.” 

“I’m so glad,” cried Ella. “Then they won’t laugh at 
my plain dress.” 

“Of course not! They know what their parents have 
done for me and them, and it will never occur to them 
to laugh at you. But now I’d better hurry home, or 
they’ll think I’ve returned to America. But before I go, 
I mustn’t forget my real errand, namely, to ask you all 
to take dinner with us next Saturday and spend the after¬ 
noon. Victor will have arrived then, and we will all be 
rested up after our long journey. No excuses, Gertrude! 
It will be just a happy reunion of old friends. You won’t 
deny Victor and myself that pleasure, will you ?” 

“Thank you very much, Marie, for your kindness. It 
makes me happy to have you regard us as your friends; 
but I’m afraid we can’t come. You see I am no better 
off than Ella as to dress. I’ ve only my wedding dress to 
wear, and that has long since seen its best days.” 

“Then wear your wedding dress, Gertrude dear. I 
remember how fine you looked in it on your wedding day, 
although at that time I wouldn’t admit it even to myself.” 

“Neither the bride nor her dress has improved in looks 
with age,” laughed Gertrude. “But that might be man¬ 
aged if only my poor old man could go along.” 

“And that’s out of the question for your old man, Ger¬ 
trude,” said Otto. “He is scarcely able to walk across 
the room, but he will sit here at home and rejoice with 
you in spirit.” 


Ella’s Treasure. 7. 


98 


Ella’s Treasure 


“He’ll do no such thing,” declared Marie. “He’ll let 
me arrange matters for him. There are such things as 
horses and vehicles at the Manor, you know. Well, 
Grandma Catherine, what objections are you going to 
raise?” 

“No objections at all,” she declared. “I haven’t a 
fault to find with my woolen dress that I’ve worn for 
four years. I w’oye the cloth myself, so I know that it is 
of good quality. How nice it would be to see Victor 
again! He and Otto used to be great friends.” 

Marie stood a moment in deep thought. Then she 
put her arm about Gertrude, and whispered: 

“You never got the dress your husband intended to buy 
for you, did you?” 

“What do you know about that?” Gertrude asked with 
astonishment. 

Then Marie had to confess that she was an unwilling 
but interested eaves-dropper to the conversation in the 
garret between Otto and Gertrude that morning years 
ago. She ended her confession by saying: 

“Solomon says: “He that hath pity upon the poor lend- 
eth unto Jehovah, and his good deed will he pay him 
again . 9 Your kindness-to me God alone can fully reward. 
But I trust you will not take it amiss if I give each of 
you a little package as a token of gratitude for the sacri¬ 
fices you smilingly made to help a poor woman wholly 
unworthy of your goodness.” 

So saying she brought forth from the capacious basket 
that had already contained so many surprises four pack¬ 
ages which she distributed among her astonished friends. 

“Don’t open them before you have taken me part way 
home. I must hurry off now, as it’s almost nine o’clock.” 

Then dropping her seriousness, she cried merrily: 


Ella’s Treasure 


99 

“Good night, friend Otto! God bless you. Please don’t 
consider m'e rude and tactless. My simple gifts are only 
a small interest on the capital you have deposited in the 
bank of God.” 

“I’m only afraid,” said Otto, shaking his head, “that 
I’ll be plunged into greater debt to you than to old John 
of Floodhurst.” 

“Come, my friends,” cried Marie, “we will let Otto 
find what pleasure he can in brooding over his debts. 
Take your wraps, for the night air is cold. Here’s your 
shawl, Grandma Catherine, and your coat, Ella. Give 
me your arm, Gertrude. How nice it is to be home 
again, and how beautiful the night is! I haven’t the least 
desire to return to the land across the waters.” 

The night air was crisp, with still a suggestion of balmy 
summer breezes. The full moon cast its half-revealing, 
half-concealing magic light over all nature. The pines 
on Ragnhild’s Cliff stretched their tapering shadows 
toward Fair Point cottage, and the white ruins of the 
chapel on the opposite cliff were sharply outlined against 
the dark background of forest. Fleecy. mists hung over 
the waters of the lake. Near at hand the rippling river 
and the rustle of falling leaves blended with the far-off 
clatter of trip hammers at the iron works, from whose tall 
chimneys showers of sparks ascended over the tree tops. 

“I hope my boat has not been carried away by the cur¬ 
rent,” remarked Marie, as they approached the river. 

“You don’t mean to row home to-night, do you?” asked 
Gertrude, with alarm. Please don’t, Marie. There are 
bowlders in the river, which you can’t see in the dark. 
We will go with you up to the gate, and Ella will row 
the boat up in the morning.” 


100 


Ella’s Treasure 


“Have no fears for me,” protested Marie. “I know 
every rock in the river from former days. See, there is a 
light beckoning me now. Maggie is up waiting for me.” 

“And see, there’s another light near the Point,” whis¬ 
pered Ella, involuntarily drawing closer to Grandma 
Catherine. 

“What a little goose you are, Ella,” said grandma. 
“Do you think that that is old Ella the witch with her 
lantern out looking for hidden treasure?” 

“No, Grandma, we’ve been told in school that it’s only 
a phosphorescent light, but it makes me feel shivery just 
the same. Why do people say that it’s old Ella? I wish 
I could discover the secret of old Ella and her hidden 
treasure.” 

“I have heard tell,” said Grandma Catherine, “that she 
was a friend and playmate of Lady Ragnhild whose name 
is on the monument on the cliff. And the treasure is said 
to be a large sum of money which Lady Ragnhild left by 
will to Ella, but which the latter never got. But all that 
is only hearsay, of course.” 

“O, Grandma, Eve never heard that before; why 
haven’t you told me?” 

“I must have forgotten it, child. The one who told 
me the story was the old blacksmith whom people call the 
Idler, the one with the squinting eyes who goes around 
playing the fiddle. He came up to the works one day to 
visit his brother; and when he didn’t find him, he stopped 
with us over night. You were only a little girl then, and 
you were scared to death, almost, every time he began to 
play the fiddle.” 

“O, Grandma, what more did the Idler say about Lady 
Ragnhild and old Ella?” 


Ella’s Treasure 


ioi 


“I’ve told you as much as I know. The old man didn’t 
seem to know any more either. He had heard the story 
from his grandfather, who in his day was also a black¬ 
smith at the works.” 

“O, if I could only find out about Lady Ragnhild’s 
death!” sighed Ella; “and also the truth about old Ella 
and her treasure.” 

“It is better to know all about the living Ella and her 
treasure, I think,” said a voice behind her, and a hand 
was laid gently on her shoulder. 

“Do you mean Aunt Marie?” asked Ella, fondly grasp¬ 
ing her hand. “But I don’t roam about by night with' a 
lantern seeking for hidden treasure.” 

“You don’t have to, Ella, because you have never lost 
it,” replied Mrs. Oakwood; “and your treasure is more 
precious than all the world’s wealth.” 

“I know what treasure you mean,” cried Ella, happily. 
“Jesus is my treasure, and of that Treasure we sing in the 
Sunday School: 

“ ‘Christ my treasure is , and I 
Above all things prize His love. 

He is mine to have and own 
Here on earth, in heav’n above.’ 

“But oh, I do wish I knew if Lady Ragnhild also loved 
Jesus! When I come to heaven, as soon as I have found 
Jesus, she will be the first one I will look for. Sometimes 
I have the queer feeling that we two have always known 
each other. I suppose there will be no use to look for 
old Ella, too, but I am going to see if she is there just the 
same.” 

“You are so full of childish fancies, my child,” re¬ 
marked Mrs. Oakwood. “You know that by reputation 
old Ella was a wicked old witch; and if Lady Ragnhild 


102 


Ella’s Treasure 


was a child of her times, there is not much to be hoped 
concerning her. True Christianity was rather scarce in 
those days, I fear.” 

“Yes, but God must have saved some even then,” Ella 
maintained. “I can’t help thinking of Ragnhild, and it 
makes me sad to think that she didn’t go to heaven.” 

“It’s no use to bother your head about the dead,” said 
grandma. “Better to interest yourself in the spiritual wel¬ 
fare of the living.” 

“What are you pondering on, Gertrude?” asked Marie. 
“While the rest of us are chattering, you are as silent as 
an Egyptian sphinx.” 

“O Marie,” Gertrude exclaimed, “my heart is so full of 
gratitude to God that I can’t find words for it. God must 
accept my very silence as a thank-offering. The last few 
days my trust in Him has tottered, and now I am happy 
but deeply humiliated because of His many mercies. I 
felt so sure that nothing could shake my faith in Him; so 
He had to teach me the well-needed lesson of not relying 
on my own strength, but on His grace alone. How happy 
you must feel, Marie, to be the instrument by means of 
which God has fulfilled His promises to us!” 

“O, Gertrude, I am nothing, and God is all in all. 
My experiences of utter wretchedness and divine grace 
are deeper than yours, my friend. I will never be able 
to do for you what you by the grace of God have done for 
me.” 

“Dear Marie, the crust of bread I cast to you upon the 
waters has already come back a hundredfold.” 

“The best of all,” said Marie, “is that you and I are 
reunited for life. I will need you, Gertrude, your friend¬ 
ship and your wise counsels; and it makes me happy to 


Ella’s Treasure 


i 03 

think that I may be able to smooth your pathway a little 
bit.” 

They found the boat where Marie had left it. But as 
yet they could not part. The beauty of the night held 
them in a trance. Finally Marie broke the silence. 

“What a glorious night it is, and how glad I am to be 
in my homeland again!” 

“Heaven is still more glorious,” replied Ella, ready as 
ever to have her say. “This river is beautiful, but noth¬ 
ing to compare with the River of Life, on whose shores 
there will be no more washing of clothes for me.” 

“And no danger for me of striking against the rocks,” 
added Mrs. Oakwood, taking the empty basket from Ella, 
and tossing it into the boat. Jumping lightly into the 
boat, she was soon breasting the current on her homeward 
way. With a final hail across the waters to her friends 
on shore she disappeared beyond a bend. 

Shooting the boat to the landing beyond Temple Cliff, 
she leaped out and hauled it into the boathouse, where¬ 
upon she set out along the broad road leading up to the 
Manor. From the open door and windows of the smithy 
gleamed the fires within, the dark, sooty shapes could be 
seen bustling to and fro. The sawmill was black and 
deserted, but great piles of lumber towered in the moon¬ 
light to bear witness of its busy industry. How often in 
years gone by she had stood gazing out upon the scene 
before her now! Bitter memories crowded in upon her, 
as she recalled the frivolous days of her young woman¬ 
hood. 

“God help and keep me!” she sighed as she drew near 
the grilled iron gate of the Manor house grounds. The 
old love of comfort and luxury stirred within her. The 
lure of her new beautiful home dimmed for a moment the 


104 


Ella’s Treasure 


brightness of her Father’s house on high. She had envied 
the former mistress of North River Manor—now all its 
refinement and elegance was hers. 

“God help and keep me!” she repeated. “I need to be 
reminded daily of the truth that here on earth I am but 
a stranger and a pilgrim.” 

Just as she reached the gate she stumbled upon a prone 
figure concealed by the deep shadow of a tree. With a 
startled cry she leaped aside as a dark figure arose and 
staggered away into the deeper shadows, muttering drunk¬ 
en curses as he went. 

For Marie the glamour of the night was gone. She 
suddenly recalled that her husband had been informed by 
letter that the moral condition of the employees at the 
works was at its lowest ebb. 

“There is work for me here,” Marie mused—“much 
work, before I can settle down to enjoy the comforts of 
my beautiful home. 

“ ‘For here on earth below sin is present everywhere 
To mar the earthly treasures God has given us to share.’ 

“While I walk along the way, God will not permit me 
to lose sight of the goal.” 

Meanwhile Marie’s companions were on their way 
home to Fair Point cottage with lighter hearts than they 
had had for many a day. 

“You walk so slow, Grandma!” complained Ella. 
“Don’t you think we ought to hurry home to papa and 
Esse?” 

“Run on ahead if you want to,” suggested Grandma 
Catherine. “It’s easier for you than for my poor old legs 
to trot up hill.” 

“I’ll never leave my grandma in the dark,” Ella de- 


Ella’s Treasure 


105 

dared. “But I do wish you were as anxious as I to see 
what’s in Aunt Marie’s packages.” 

Curious all three were, it must be confessed, and no 
sooner had they come through the door than each eagerly 
opened her package. 

Gertrude’s contained a fine .woolen dress pattern with 
the necessary trimmings, and also a white linen table cloth. 

Grandma Catherine’s gift was a dark-brown dress pat¬ 
tern also of wool, and in addition to this a warm shoulder 
cape. 

In Ella’s package was found a brightly colored dress 
pattern of Scotch plaid, besides various little knickknacks 
dear to the heart of a girl. 

So intent were they in examining and praising their 
several gifts, that not one of them thought to ask Otto 
what his insignificant little package contained. With a 
nrysterious smile on his face he had been watching the 
antics of the others. When they at last found time to 
notice him he showed them a little dark object, and smil¬ 
ingly asked: 

“Can you guess what this is?” 

“What is it, Papa?” asked Ella. “A little book? And 
we others got such big, nice presents!” 

“But I wouldn’t exchange presents with any one of 
you,” he declared, still smiling. 

Ella at once began to investigate. It was not an ordi¬ 
nary book, but a wallet containing five compartments. 
After many attempts Ella finally succeeded in opening it, 
and uttered a cry of amazement when she discovered what 
it contained; for in each compartment she found a bright 
new 50-crown bill, and in a secret receptacle, which she 
came upon accidentally, she found a folded paper contain¬ 
ing the following message: 


io6 


Ella’s Treasure 


“Not a gift, but the payment of a long outstanding debt 
with interest. Half of this sum I have earned with my 
own hands, and the other half I obtained from the sale 
of my few belongings which I no longer needed after I 
married Victor. 

“Do not refuse me the pleasure of discharging this my 
debt to you. I have prayed God that this sum might be 
of as great benefit to you as the sum you could ill spare, 
but yet so generously gave to the once wretched but now 
happy Marie.” 

In the same secret receptacle there was an additional 
50-crown bill to which a slip of paper was pinned, con¬ 
taining these words: 

“In payment of a little white coffin in which a sorrow¬ 
ing mother bedded down her darling little girl for her 
last sleep.” 

The pathos of this last message disinclined the inmates 
of Fair Point cottage to further rejoicing. Soberly Otto 
opened the Bible, read a chapter, and ended the memor¬ 
able day with a prayer of praise and thanksgiving to God. 


Ella’s Treasure 


107 


CHAPTER TEN 
Old John Ponders. 

The money-loving old man was lost in thought as he 
jogged homeward from Fair Point cottage. A well-trav¬ 
eled road led through the forest to Floodhurst, and along 
this road old John was now walking, although it was 
longer and darker than the path along the river, a path 
worn smooth by countless feet for three centuries or more. 

But why had old John chosen the longer road instead 
of the shorter past the ruins of Old Ella’s cottage near the 
river? The mysterious gloom of the forest always affected 
him unpleasantly, although its towering firs and pines be¬ 
yond the boundary of the millstream acknowledged him 
as owner. Subdued whisperings and strange noises as¬ 
sailed him now as he plodded on through the somber 
shades. And yet for some reason he had chosen this road 
in preference to the more direct and open path along the 
river past Fair Point and the witch’s cottage. 

The truth was that for several years now old Ella’s 
cottage had inspired him with superstitious dread. For 
on a dark autumn night a terrible voice had spoken to him 
from the ancient ruins, an echo of which voice had that 
very evening reached him at Fair Point cottage, and filled 
his heart with superstitious awe. If we draw aside for a 
moment the veil of old John’s past life, we will under¬ 
stand why he shunned the neighborhood of the witch’s 
cottage. 

Old Baron von Bielertz, called the “Old Baron” even 
when John was in the full vigor of early manhood, was a 
man who in his timber enterprises did not much concern 


io8 Ella’s Treasure 

himself with questions of right and wrong. His wealth 
and powerful influence often made it possible for him to 
overstep the spirit if not the letter of the law. In this 
John Flood of Floodhurst was his efficient partner and 
tool. Though so unlike in rank and breeding, they early 
recognized the kinship of soul existing between them. 
The practiced business eye of the Baron was quick to dis¬ 
cover John Flood’s talents, and to make use of them in 
such shady enterprises whose right and justice must not be 
too closely scrutinized. 

But on one occasion the Baron’s shrewdness was at fault. 
An illegal timber transaction on a large scale threatened 
to put a sinister blot on his baronial escutcheon. Then it 
was that John Flood stepped into the breach, and through 
his silence saved the highborn transgressor from the con¬ 
sequences of his act. 

Naturally John Flood could not allow such a favorable 
opportunity of bettering himself to pas's out of his hands. 

He had long cast covetous eyes on the land embracing 
Kiln Point, the witch’s cottage, and a fine piece of well- 
preserved timber. Time and again he had made offers of 
purchase, which the baron had promptly and bluntly re¬ 
jected. By tradition Kiln Point, or, as we have learned 
to know it. Fair Point, was so closely associated with 
North River Manor that the baron considered it a sacri¬ 
lege even to suggest its sale. North River Manor without 
Fair Point was like a signet ring without its setting. 

But John Flood never lost sight of his purpose. There¬ 
fore he promptly made use of his knowledge of the baron’s 
illegal timber deal to renew his claim on Fair Point as 
the price of his silence. 

To save his good name and reputation the baron had no 
other recourse than to surrender Fair Point for a nominal 


Ella’s Treasure 


109 


sum to John Flood, who then but awaited the coming of 
some dark night to carry out a plan he had been brooding 
on for years. 

In common with others he, too, had listened from child¬ 
hood to the old traditions concerning Ella’s hidden treas¬ 
ure, buried, no doubt, under or near the ruins of the 
witch’s cottage, and in the course of years a desire to find 
and possess this treasure had become a mania with him. 

So one dark October night, alone and unseen, he set 
out with dark lantern, pick, and spade to try his fortune 
as a treasure seeker, though he knew, and trembled at the 
thought, that according to tradition Ella, the old witch, 
had called down a fearful curse on anyone who ventured 
to disturb her possessions. As he began to dig, a creepy 
sensation came over him. In the deep darkness of the 
night he could almost feel the witch’s nearness, and hear 
her whispered curses in his ear. His face and hands grew 
damp and clammy, more from dread than from the exer¬ 
tion he was putting forth. Nevertheless he grimly stuck 
to his task, sweating and digging hour after hour—but 
without favorable result. Apparently this was not the 
place where Ella’s treasure had been buried. 

Impatiently he made one final jab with his pick in the 
hole he had dug, when to his intense surprise a hollow, 
metallic sound reached his ears. Almost crazed with 
eagerness he dug with clawed hands until he unearthed 
a small metal box that gleamed dimly in the light of his 
lantern. 

“The treasure at last!” he muttered excitedly, clawing 
at the lid which opened without difficulty. 

But alas for his hopes! The box contained only a bit 
of yellow paper, evidently torn from some old book. He 
thrust it under the light of his lantern, and there, staring 


I IO 


Ella’s Treasure 


him in the face, in the antique print of the seventeenth 
century, were these awful words of doom: 

“For ivhat shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the 
whole world, and forfeit his life? or what shall a man 
give in exchange for his life?” 

Minute after minute John stood as if turned to stone. 
Whose were these words, and where had he heard them 
before ? Was this yellow bit of paper some magic spell to 
bring down upon him old Ella’s curse, or was it a warn¬ 
ing from God? As John’s knowledge of the Bible was 
limited, he did not know that the words were uttered by 
Jesus Himself. With a shudder of horror he hurled the 
metal box back into the hole he had dug, and hurriedly 
buried it and his disappointed hopes away from sight. 

From that time he shunned the neighborhood of the 
witch’s cottage, especially after dark, preferring the mys¬ 
terious noises of the forest to the awe-inspiring words 
which he regarded as coming from old Ella the witch. 

Later, he heard his wife read the words one day out of 
her Bible. This comforted him somewhat, for if they 
were God’s words, and not those of a witch, he reasoned 
that they would do him no harm. Nevertheless the sting 
of them remained deeply buried in his heart. Therefore 
it came about that he was glad to dispose of Kiln Point, 
when Otto Leander had presented himself as a purchaser. 

On this night when he was returning from Fair Point 
cottage, his mind was teeming with strange, disturbing 
thoughts. Ella’s curse had come back to haunt him, from 
the lips of Mrs. Oakwood. All the crooked and devious 
transactions of a lifetime stood out vividly before him, 
and, inscribed in letters of fire over them all, gleamed the 
words: “What doth it profit a man—?” 

While John was plodding onward, homeward bound 


Ella’s Treasure 


i 11 

through the dark forest, Lottie, his aged wife, was busily 
spinning linen thread in their cheerless home. Cheerless 
also was the life she was doomed to live in that home. 
Her two sons followed in the footsteps of their father, 
and were a constant source of anxiety to her, as well as 
the daily burden of her prayers at the throne of grace. 
For old Lottie was a devout and pious soul, whose only 
source of strength and consolation was her precious Bible, 
the pages of which she laboriously and faithfully conned. 

As she now sat spinning in the uncertain light of a 
little tin lamp on the table, she, too, was pondering on the 
business that had taken her husband to Fair Point cottage. 
Suddenly her spinning wheel stopped, and the startled 
gray cat jumped from her lap. Both had heard the sound 
of approaching steps, and both had cause to dread the one 
whose step they heard. The old gray cat had painful 
memories of harsh treatment to make it wary now; the 
old neglected wife feared to hear news of another un¬ 
righteous transaction on the part of her husband. 

“Dear God in heaven, grant that John has not taken 
their only cow away from those poor people at Fair 
Point,” old Lottie sighed, as the outer door flew open. 

A quick glance told Lottie that something untoward 
must have happened, for her husband seemed subdued and 
disturbed, as he stamped over the bare floor and hung his 
slouchy hat on a peg without uttering a word of greeting. 

When the silence remained unbroken, she finally ven¬ 
tured to ask: 

“Are you and the boys planning to butcher to-morrow?” 

“No,” he snapped. “The cow is sold to the new owner 
of the Manor house.” 

“Poor Leanders!” sighed Lottie. “And what about the 
money ?” 


112 


Ella’s Treasure 


“The money is right here,” said John, patting his wal¬ 
let with evident satisfaction. 

“O John, you shouldn’t have made them pay it all at 
once. You know how sick Otto has been, and how hard 
up they are. You might have waited for a part of the 
money at least.” 

“They got a hundred crowns for the cow, so they’ll 
manage to get along alright on the twenty crowns they 
have left. And say, Lottie, you might take them some 
milk in the morning, and whatever else you can pick up 
in the way of food. They’ll need it, I guess.” 

Wide-eyed with surprise, Lottie needed a moment to 
collect herself before she could say: 

“I’ll be glad to do it, John.” 

But in her heart she wondered: “What has happened 
to him? Is this from God, or has something scared him? 
Whatever it is, I thank God that He heard my prayer, 
and did not let John deprive them of their only cow.” 


Ella’s Treasure 


113 


CHAPTER ELEVEN 
Friends of Bygone Days . 

On Saturday morning all was stir and bustle in Fair 
Point cottage. Ella had been up since dawn, setting the 
house in order, and ironing the things Esse wa£ to wear 
on his visit to the Manor house. 

Aunt Anna, who was also invited, was taking the last 
stitches in Ella’s new dress, and at the same time keeping 
a watchful eye on Esse, who must not be awakened before 
his clothes were ready for him to put on. 

Grandma Catherine was bustling about, setting the 
coffee table and making last-minute preparations for de¬ 
parture. 

Gertrude had ironed a starched shirt for Otto, and had 
also made hasty but deft alterations in her wedding dress 
in an effort to make it presentable and up-to-date. 

Time passed, and presently all were ready for the con¬ 
templated visit to North River Manor. Otto stood on 
the porch leaning on his crutch, and waiting for the com¬ 
ing of the buggy that should convey him and Esse to the 
Manor. Beside him stood Gertrude and Aunt Anna, a 
light of eager expectancy in their eyes. Ella, clad in her 
n,ew dress of Scotch plaid, was moving about restlessly, 
wondering why grandma wasn’t ready, and expressing the 
opinion that she must be putting flowers in her hair, see¬ 
ing that it took her so long. 

“Flowers in my hair, you silly child!” exclaimed 
Grandma Catherine, coming out in time to hear Ella’s 
remark. “Didn’t I have to shut the cat in the kitchen to 
save her from old John Flood’s dog that had been prowling 


Ella’s Treasure. 8. 


Ella’s Treasure 


114 

around here all morning? And besides there were the 
doors and windows to shut and lock.—Flowers in my hair 
—I can just see myself!” 

The women were to start out ahead; so Ella had twined 
a wreath of autumn flowers to hang on Lady Ragnhild’s 
monument. She therefore hurried off before the others to 
perform this labor of love and to sweep away the fallen 
leaves from the stone. 

“I wonder,” she mused, as she stood leaning against the 
stone while waiting for the others; “O, I wonder if Lady 
Ragnhild died believing in Jesus as her Lord and Sav¬ 
iour!” 

But she must hurry on to overtake the women, who 
were now crossing the stone bridge over the river. All 
reached the great iron gates just as the buggy conveying 
Otto and Esse swung into the shaded avenue leading up 
to the Manor house. 

The day was fair and bright. But for the frost-nipped 
leaves on the trees it might have been taken for an ideal 
summer day. The deep-blue sky was reflected in the 
placid depths of the lake, as yet untouched by autumn 
storms. The midday sun smiled down upon the well- 
kept grounds, where beds of gaudy autumn flowers dotted 
smooth lawns of emerald green. 

“I declare that North River Manor is getting more 
beautiful every year,” Grandma Catherine exclaimed. 
“There were never so many flowers in the Old Baron’s 
days. How sweet the mignonettes smell! I can’t remem¬ 
ber the name of those queer flowers over there. They 
look like the wrinkled faces of old women. What do you 
call them, Ella?” 

“Why, they are pansies, Grandma,” said Ella, laugh¬ 
ing at Grandma Catherine’s fanciful description. 


Ella’s Treasure 115 

“T. here he is!” cried grandma. “There he stands on 
the steps large as life! It’s Victor, I tell you. O, that 
my old eyes should behold him once more!” 

“Aunt Catherine, dear Aunt Catherine!” cried a manly 
voice, that brought back a host of tender memories to the 
old woman. 

“Praise God that I have lived to see this day!” cried 
grandma. “I would have known you anywhere, dear 
Victor, although you have become so rich and grand. And 
what a grand beard you have brought with you from 
America! And there’s Marie. Thank you, Marie; 
thank you for what you’ve done for us. It’s many a day 
since I was so happy as now!”* 

By this time the buggy had stopped before the main 
entrance of the Manor house, whose owner gently assisted 
Otto to alight. 

At first no word was spoken. For a lingering moment 
they looked into each other’s eyes, then they fell into a 
long and silent embrace. 

“That I should live to see your face again!” said Otto 
finally, with trembling voice. 

And in truth, it was a face well worth seeing. Not 
strictly handsome, when measured by ordinary standards 
of beauty; but strong and soulful—a face in which ten¬ 
derness of heart and firmness of character were peculiarly 
blended. In culture and refinement this “man of the peo¬ 
ple” was the peer of the long line of baronial owners of 
North River Manor. 

Two girls now appeared, and were presented to the 
visitors as Marie’s daughters, Victoria and Vera. They 
were tall and slender, and very much alike. Both seemed 
rather too serious for their age; years of poverty and dis- 


116 Ella’s Treasure 

tress had left an impress on them that happier days had 
not yet succeeded to efface. 

Ella, who had visited the girls the day before, lost no 
time in renewing the acquaintance. Her lively disposition 
soon banished all restraint between them, and they were 
soon roaming through house and grounds, Ella chattering • 
like a magpie, and the two sisters melting more and more 
under her genial influence. 

“I wish you didn’t have so much whiskers, Victor,” la¬ 
mented Grandma Catherine, as they entered the house. 
“I can’t see how your mouth looks when you laugh. You 
were a merry scamp as a boy, and many a scolding I gave 
you. But you were one of my boys just the same.” 

“Let me be one of your boys still, Aunt Catherine,” 
laughed Mr. Oakwood, his white teeth gleaming through 
his beard. “If you hadn’t laughed with us in the old days, 

I wouldn’t have ventured even a smile.” 

The Manor house, with its grand staircase, inlaid 
floors, decorated ceilings, and extensive apartments and 
chambers, was not much changed in appearance since the 
time when Gertrude as a maid of the old baroness had 
tripped through its rooms at the beck and call of her mis¬ 
tress. Only a few of the apartments had been remodeled 
and refurnished to meet the demands of modern taste and 
comfort. Among these were the rooms set apart for the 
mistress of the house, and the ballroom which Mr. Oak- 
wood had transformed into a nursery and playroom for 
the children. With these exceptions the ancient Manor 
house remained in all its pristine grandeur, a stately mon¬ 
ument of bygone days. 

“You have not seen my greatest treasure,” Mrs. Oak- 
wood remarked, heading her guests into a bright and airy 
little room. There, watched by a dark-eyed American 





Victoria and Vera were tall and slender, and very much alike. 

Page 115. 


























































































Ella’s Treasure 


i i 8 

maid, a baby girl of eight months was sitting in a pile of 
cushions in the middle of the floor. 

“Ella, my dear,” she said, “this is the little rosebud 
God has given me to replace the one the Good Shepherd 
took unto Himself. Don’t you think she is like her 
papa, all but the brown eyes which she has from me?” 

“How sweet she is!” cried Ella, kneeling down and 
extending her arms to the child. “She’s just like a rose¬ 
bud. You’ve called her Rosa, haven’t you, Aunt Marie?” 

“Indeed I have,” Mrs. Oakwood replied. “Let Esse 
stay here and play with Rosa, while the rest of you come 
with me and explore the other rooms. Mabel will bring 
Esse to us when he grows tired of playing with my baby.” 

In their ramble through the great house they came at 
last to the long gallery on whose walls hung the portraits 
of the members of the Bielertz family for the last three 
hundred years. With a look of surprise Gertrude stopped 
before the picture of a young girl with thin features and 
large Madonna-like eyes. To the right of this hung a 
portrait of a middle-aged woman whose haughty mien 
and crafty, furtive eyes affected the beholder unpleasantly. 
Nevertheless, though so different in appearance, the two 
portraits bore marked resemblance to one another. 

Pointing to the former, Gertrude exclaimed: “That 
picture wasn’t here in my day. Who hung it here, and 
whom does it represent?” 

“I found it in the attic years ago,” said Mr. Oakwood. 
“I was helping the old Baron’s man with the house clean¬ 
ing when I came upon it rolled up in a dusty roll in a 
dark corner behind a massive chest. I showed it to the 
baron, sure that it represented some member of his fam¬ 
ily, but he told me harshly to keep it or burn it up. So I 


Ella’s Treasure 119 

rolled it up, and it has followed me to America and back. 
I have just had it renovated and framed, as you see.” 

“But who is she?” asked Ella with a dreamy look in 
her eye. “She is so like, and yet so unlike that other one.” 

“There was an old maidservant here at the time the 
picture was found,” said Mr. Oakwood. “She had been 
with the family all her life, and she declared that it was 
the portrait of the young girl whose name is inscribed on 
the old monument at Fair Point. By the way, is the old 
stone still standing there ?” 

“O, it is Lady Ragnhild, my Lady Ragnhild!” cried 
Ella ecstatically. “I knew she would look like that. I’m 
so happy to have seen her at last. See, she is looking right 
at me! But, Uncle Victor, who is that woman next to 
her, with the wicked, crafty eyes?” 

“That’s Lady Ragnhild’s mother, the Baroness Adele 
von Bielertz.” 

“Where did you learn all this, Victor?” asked Ger¬ 
trude. “I’ve dusted these portraits for five or six years, 
and barely learned to recognize the Old Baron’s parents 
and grandparents.” 

“O, I’ve always been interested in the genealogy of the 
von Bielertz family; and while I was employed here, I 
used to dig in the old musty volumes of the library to 
discover the history and traditions of the family. Like 
Ella here, I had romantic dreams about Lady Ragnhild, 
and was overjoyed to find her portrait in the attic. One 
of my first tasks after coming here now was to place her 
picture where it belongs in the gallery.” 

“But, Uncle Victor, why wasn’t her picture allowed to 
hang there in the Old Baron’s time?” 

“That’s a family secret, I fear. The old maidservant 
I mentioned hinted, however, that the young lady had 


20 


Ella’s Treasure 


forbidden intercourse with Ella the witch, who was young 
then and, in secret, a playmate of Lady Ragnhild’s. At 
any rate, the two names are always mentioned together in 
the traditions that have come down to us from that day.” 

“Ugh, Ella,” said Grandma Catherine. “You’d better 
not hang any more wreaths on the old monument near the 
river.” 

As they continued on their rounds through the house, 
no one but Mr. Oakwood noticed how silent and de¬ 
pressed Ella had suddenly grown. 

“Come, Ella,” he said gently. “Don’t let those old 
traditions spoil your pleasure. Who knows how much of 
truth or falsehood they contain? Hadn’t you better direct 
your interest to the living, rather than waste it upon 
those dead and gone hundreds of years ago?” 

“But, Uncle Victor, need I love the living less for hop¬ 
ing and wishing that Lady Ragnhild and old Ella might 
be with God in heaven, rather than—eternally lost? Can 
there be any harm in that?” 

“Only if you allow your mind and heart to be so occu¬ 
pied with such things, that you lose sight of the living 
present. My dear little Ella, your soul and mine are 
kindred spirits; take my advice and don’t lose yourself in 
extravagant speculations and dreams of the past.” 

“But, Uncle Victor, if I love Jesus more than all else 
in life, He will keep me safe, won’t He?” 

“That He will, Ella,” said Mr. Oakwood, leaving her 
and taking his old friend Otto by the arm. 

Seeing them together, Grandma Catherine exclaimed: 
“It’s like old times to see you two boys together. What 
times you used to have!” 

“A closer bond unites us now,” declared Mr. Oakwood, 
“namely, the bond of fellowship in Christ Jesus. Otto 


Ella’s Treasure 


12 I 


and I have passed through many vicissitudes and trials 
since our boyhood days. Let us call down the blessing of 
God upon our meeting, and implore His divine help and 
guidance for coming days.” 

And so these two friends, trained in the school of ad¬ 
versity, stood for a lingering moment with bowed heard, 
engaged in silent prayer. 

Presently dinner was announced, and all took their 
places at the table in the oak-paneled dining-room, where 
a simple but abundant meal was served. At its conclu¬ 
sion the women retired to the private sitting room of their 
hostess, while Mr. Oakwood led Otto into his office and 
bade him lie down on the couch to rest. 

“How about yourself? Victor?” asked Otto. 

But Mr. Oakwood disclaimed any need of rest. His 
active energetic soul found its greatest pleasure in man¬ 
aging and directing the work of the various industries on 
his large estate. So he excused himself for an hour or so, 
while Otto rested, and spent the time in visiting foundry, 
mills, and workshops, meeting many a companion of his 
younger days, and clasping many a sooty hand with every 
evidence of friendship and goodwill. 

Returning from his rounds, he sat down beside the couch 
where Otto still lay resting, and began to unfold to him 
the plans he had made for the future development of his 
large estate with its many and varied industries. In the 
course of his remarks said: 

“I had planned to make you superintendent of the 
iron works, for which your many years of experience 
ironworks, for which your many years of experience 
a course in a technical school. But now comes your pro¬ 
tracted illness to hinder my plans. I am well aware of 
the circumstances that brought on your sickness, and I 


122 


Ella’s Treasure 


gladly acknowledge my obligations to you on this account. 
Besides, I can never forget what you did for Marie when 
she was left stranded and utterly helpless. And this—” 

“Not another word about that, Victor. You know 
very well that she has repaid us a hundredfold for any 
little kindness we-did her.” 

“It can never be repaid on earth,” protested Victor. 
“But since you do not think that your failing health will 
permit you to accept the superintendency, I have another 
proposition to make. But as it is rather involved, I want 
you to listen patiently while I unfold my plan to you. 

“As you have heard from my wife, my uncle was a 
mechanical genius, and had an almost prophetic insight 
into the needs of the industrial world. He used to tell 
me that if I returned to my native land, and found North 
River Manor for sale, I ought to purchase it, and develop 
the almost limitless water power here, making use of the 
industrial and economic methods I had learned in America. 

“As you see, I have followed my uncle’s advice, and I 
intend to carry it out to the fullest extent. But the ques¬ 
tion of transportation has always troubled former, owners 
of the Manor, and it is a source of embarrassment to me 
now. We have about fourteen miles to the nearest ship¬ 
ping point on the railroad, and the road leads up and down 
hill, greatly increasing the difficulty and cost of trans¬ 
portation. A narrow guage railroad would solve the dif¬ 
ficulty, but tunneling and filling would be required almost 
the entire distance, and the cost would be more than a 
private individual could manage. 

“On the other hand, an almost continuous chain of 
lakes and streams forms an ideal means of transportation. 
I have figured it out that two locks and three short chan¬ 
nels of a few rods each would give us a splendid waterway 


Ella’s Treasure 


123 


to the shipping point. I will superintend the engineering 
work myself, and I am planning to do the preliminary 
work already this fall.” 

“But where will you build your wharves and ware¬ 
houses?” asked Otto. “It will hardly be possible for you 
to bring your boats up the swift stream to the works.” 

“Wait a moment, and you shall hear. The old Baron 
often spoke of the possibility of transportation by water, 
but old North, his superintendent, discouraged the project 
on account of the limited business carried on at that time 
and the great costs involved. Nevertheless the Baron 
called in an engineer to investigate the possibilities, and 
to discover how far up the river steamboat navigation 
would be practicable. He fixed upon Fair Point as the 
place where the wharves and warehouses ought to be lo¬ 
cated. But the distance from there to the works presented 
a transportation problem the solution of which involved 
so great costs, that the baron reluctantly gave up the 
project. The undertaking, however, is feasible, and this 
brings me to the proposition I have to make to you. 

“I propose to purchase or lease from you the extreme 
end of Fair Point as a location for my wharves and ware¬ 
houses. From there I will build a tramway up to the iron 
works, running between your land and John Flood’s tim¬ 
ber land. This tramway will encroach very little upon 
your cultivated land, and I will pay you five hundred 
crowns or more a year for the use of this right of way. 
Then I will make you my warehouse manager, for which 
you will receive an annual salary of fifteen hundred 
crowns. Well, Otto, what do you say? Shall we make 
a deal of it?” 

“I’m afraid the advantage would all be on my side,” 
said Otto, shaking his head sadly. “In all probability 


Ella’s Treasure 


124 

I will never again amount to much as far as bodily labor 
is concerned, and you are making me this extraordinary 
offer to provide for me, and at the same time to spare my 
feelings. But by the grace of God I hope to regain my 
strength, so that I can make a living for my dear ones. 
Tell me frankly, do you think I am fitted for the position 
you offer me?” 

“Of course you are, otherwise I wouldn’t tender it. 
All you need is a little coaching in bookkeeping from me. 
So now that matter is settled to our mutual satisfaction.” 

“Not so fast, my friend! Don’t let impulse get the bet¬ 
ter of reason. We must look at this from more than one 
point of view. In the first place the salary you offer is 
too large. In the second place the peace and quiet of my 
home would be disturbed by your wharves and warehouses 
on the Point. But being a hard-headed business man, 
you regard such an objection as ridiculous, I suppose.” 

“Far from it, old boy,” replied Mr. Oakwood. “Don’t 
think for a moment that I mean to spoil the beauty of 
your romantic Fair Point. You remember the low, 
marshy stretch on the other side of the mill stream. It’s 
on John Flood’s land; but he will sell it if he gets his 
price. Well, there is where I intend to build my ware¬ 
houses.” 

“Not unless you get my consent,” said Otto banter- 
ingly. “That stretch of land belongs to me.” 

“What’s that you say? Then, perhaps, you also own 
the forest land to the east of it?” 

“Right you are. The old mill stream forms the bound¬ 
ary between John Flood’s land and mine.” 

“Well, then, I’ll take that off your hands, too, for an 
additional sum of money, of course. What? You shake 
3'our head and sigh!” 


Ella’s Treasure 125 

“I’m foolish, I know,” said Otto. “But I dread the 
thought of the noise and bustle and uproar that your 
warehouses will bring within reach of my peaceful haven.” 

“Poor old Otto!” mocked Victor. “How unlike we 
are! The noise and uproar you abhor is sweet music in 
my ear. Without it 1 would pine away with lonesome¬ 
ness. But if I remember rightly, there is an old road 
through old John’s forest land to the charcoal kilns.” 

“Right you are again. Old John still uses it to trans¬ 
port charcoal to the works.” 

“Then we’ll build our tramway along that road, and 
you will only catch an occasional glimpse of my freight 
cars. I promise that my warehouses shall not be unsightly 
blots on the landscape; and the steamers plying on lake 
and river will add interest and animation to the scene. 
Well, Otto, what do you say about it?” 

“Can I accept with a good conscience two thousand 
crowns a year when I give you little or nothing in return?” 

“Listen to reason, won’t you, my conscientious friend! 
The privileges I am asking of you will be worth a fortune 
to me. Besides, I will see to it that you do not eat the 
bread of idleness. Well, what do you say now?” 

“What in the world are you two muttering about?” 
asked Grandma Catherine, sticking her head in through 
the door. “I suppose an old woman like me must keep 
out of it.” 

“Bv no means, Aunt Catherine. Here, take this 
rocker and make yourself comfortable.” 

“Thank you, Victor. How many beautiful things you 
have, and what grand sights you must have seen both in 
England and America!” 

“Come, Aunt Catherine,” said Mr. Oakwood, drawing 


126 


Ella’s Treasure 


his chair closer. “Let me tell you about one of the pret¬ 
tiest sights I have ever seen.” 

“Yes, do, that’s a good boy.” 

“How well I can recall a little red cottage on the shore 
of a diminutive lake in the pine forest! Near one corner 
stood a graceful larch, and before the entrance a row of 
cherry trees stood as sentinels on guard. The well- 
scoured floor of the cottage was always strewn with 
chopped pine needles. ,The open fireplace with its pots 
and kettles, and the rows of shining pans on shelves along 
the wall—all these stand vividly before my mind’s eye. 1 
can name from memory every object in that simple but 
cozy cottage home.” 

“You forgot the big yellow cat,” said Otto, with a 
twinkle in his eye. 

“Hush, Otto, I forget nothing.—There, you have gone 
and spoiled my picture! But you can’t spoil the bright 
memories that linger in my mind.” 

“You must have taken a trip through the air while we 
were taking our after-dinner rest,” cried the old woman 
jovially. “For if you haven’t described my old home, 
Larch Glen, my name isn’t Catherine. But do you re¬ 
member, Victor, when you broke the lid of my porcelain 
coffee pot?” 

“What! do you still accuse me of doing that?” 

“You know you did it, my boy; so what’s the use deny¬ 
ing it now? But I glued the pieces together, and the pot 
is as good as new to-day even if it is rather old-fashioned.” 

“And the sunfish in the little lake; what fun it was to 
feed them!” cried Mr. Oakwood, pretending to be anxious 
to change the subject. 

“But, Victor, I thought you were going to tell us about 
what you had seen and heard after you disappeared so 


Ella’s Treasure 127 

suddenly from North River Manor. Did you feel at 
home in America?” 

“I have never felt really at home anywhere except right 
here,” Victor replied. “My life in America was one long 
yearning for home, and I grew more morose and gloomy 
every day until I found Marie. After that my life took 
on a brighter aspect.” 

“But hadn’t you found a still more faithful friend be¬ 
fore that, Victor?” asked Grandma Catherine gently. 

“Yes, Aunt Catherine, up North, where I fled from 
here, I found the Friend above all others, my Lord and 
Saviour. A great religious awakening had taken place 
there, and on its troubled waters I was tossed about like a 
rudderless boat. After much soul-searching I discovered 
that my greatest misfortune in life was not the loss of 
Marie, and with her, of my earthly happiness, but rather 
the fact that I lived a stranger to God and His saving 
grace. The days that followed were full of soul anguish. 
I learned to know myself as a lost and condemned crea¬ 
ture. The truth of God’s righteousness hid from my 
sight the truth of His saving grace. But on the very 
brink of despair it was given me to see the cross of Christ, 
and to find peace and forgiveness there. 

“The unrest that had driven me from place to place 
was changed to a melancholy calm wherein I learned to 
know that God is good even when He deprives us of the 
dearest wishes of our heart. 

“After many fruitless efforts my uncle finally discov¬ 
ered where I was. You remember, perhaps, that I was his 
favorite as a boy. He now wrote me that I was also his 
sole heir, and urged me to come to America, that I might 
learn the latest improved methods in iron and steel manu¬ 
facture, and later enter into partnership with him. 


128 


Ella’s Treasure 


“The glowing prospects that his letter opened up to me 
had little or no attraction for me then. I had learned to 
fear the allurement of earthly things; and what was 
wealth to one whose earthly happiness had been wrecked ? 
But the more I read and reread my uncle’s terse and busi¬ 
ness-like letter, the more I seemed to discover in it an in¬ 
tense longing for some one whom he might love and cher¬ 
ish as his own. 

“So, commending myself to the care and keeping of 
God, I set out upon the long journey across the waters, 
and it was clear to see that my uncle was glad to see me, 
for his gruff manner could not conceal the light of satis¬ 
faction shining in his eyes. He began at once to initiate 
me into the many and intricate details of his great indus¬ 
trial enterprises; and though he rarely interfered in per¬ 
son, I soon discovered that I was under the assured guid¬ 
ance of a master hand. 

At first all went well. But after some time an uncon¬ 
querable homesickness laid hold on me. I grew sick in 
body as well as sick at heart. My uncle was quick to 
note my condition, and suggested that I take a trip home. 
But feeling that my departure would be a sad disappoint¬ 
ment to him, I stayed on in the hope of gradually over¬ 
coming my yearning for home. 

“It was at this time that my wife’s first husband ob¬ 
tained a good position in my uncle’s office. He had 
changed much for the better, and before long I learned 
that he had sent for his wife and children. Alarmed at 
this news, and unable to bear the thought of meeting with 
Marie, whom I had loved and lost, I obtained a transfer 
to other ironworks of my uncle’s farther west. Here 
I endeavored to forget my sorrow by plunging with rest¬ 
less activity into my work. Had not the loving hand of 


Ella’s Treasure 129 

God supported me in these dark hours, I would have 
given way to utter despair. 

“Then it was that I was suddenly recalled by the death 
of my uncle. The sad blow roused me from my stupor. 
More clearly than ever I came to see how great my uncle’s 
love for me had been, and I determined with God’s help 
to carry on the work he had intrusted to my care. 

“Marie has already told you, I think, that her husband 
had died before she arrived in America with her two little 
girls. She has also told you of our meeting, and of its 
happy results. The culmination of my earthly happiness 
was attained when it became possible for me to return to 
my native land and to North River Manor with Marie 
as my very own; and now—” 

“And now you mustn’t sit and gossip about me any 
longer,” said a sw T eet voice behind him as a pair of soft 
arms wound themselves about his neck. “Coffee is ready. 
No more gossiping until you sit down to it!” 

“La me! I’m glad you came, Marie. Here I’ve sat 
and listened until my head swims and my poor old bones 
ache,” exclaimed Grandma Catherine. 

Seated around the coffee table, they were soon engaged 
in lively conversation about things new and old. 

“Have you seen your sister Agnes of Great Meadows 
yet?” inquired Otto’s sister Anna. 

“Yes,” said Marie soberly, “I was over there yesterday; 
and to-morrow we expect them here.” 

“I’m sorry for their poor boy Carl,” said Grandma 
Catherine, shaking her head. “He has never been right 
since the fire. Before that, people said that he was 
smarter than the schoolmaster.” 

“But as self-conceited as he was smart,” declared Aunt 
Anna. “But he is not alone to blame for that.” 


Ella’s Treasure . 9 . 


30 


Ella’s Treasure 


“I’m afraid that’s true,” said Marie sadly. “False 
pride has borne bitter fruits in our family; and sister Ag¬ 
nes did all she could to spoil her son.” 

A death-like pallor overspread Marie’s countenance as 
she again recalled the terrible scene enacted so long ago in 
the kitchen at Great Meadows. She saw herself, a de¬ 
spairing suppliant, treated with haughty contempt by 
those who were her nearest kin. She heard her own bitter 
words of condemnation, and shuddered at the memory of 
her harsh refusal to forgive her nephew when he sued for 
it. God had dealt with her more mercifully than she de¬ 
served. 

She had visited her relatives the day before. Words of 
forgiveness had been exchanged, and a better understand¬ 
ing established. 

But poor Carl she had not been permitted to see. She 
heard him walking the floor in his own room, softly ac¬ 
companying himself on the violin, as he sang again and 
again: 

“Dust we are, and ever 
We to dust return. 

Sleep we seek, but never 
Sleeps the soul. Concern 
And remorseful anguish 
Fill each waking hour. 

E’en in life we languish 
In death’s awful power. 

God, in mercy hear us, 

Hear our suppliant cry. 

Send Thy grace to cheer us; 

Save us, or we die!” 

In reply to Gertrude’s question whether she was per¬ 
mitted to see him, Marie answered: 


Ella’s Treasure 131 

“I was told that he never wanted to see anyone except 
his mother.” 

“That’s what they tell every one that comes,” said Aunt 
Anna sharply; “and so they keep the poor boy shut up 
like a wild beast. May God restore his wits, I pray.” 

“Is he ever violent,” asked Mr. Oakwood sympatheti¬ 
cally. 

“No, he is as quiet as a lamb,” Grandma Catherine 
answered. “But his poor brain is cracked for good, I’m 
afraid.” 

“I don’t believe that at all, Grandma,” declared Ella. 
“I believe God will make Carl well again. They often 
let me go in to see him, and he is always glad when I 
come. He is always asking me to tell him about Jesus 
who has the keys of life and death, and he wants me to ask 
God to write his name in the book of life; and I do it 
every day,” concluded Ella in a tone of firm assurance. 

Fear not: only believe” “All things are possible to 
him that believeth” quoted Mr. Oakwood, softly. 

Silence fell upon them all, as they sat pondering the 
divine words. 


132 


Ella’s Treasure 


CHAPTER TWELVE 
The Results of a Misadventure. 

“So, you still claim, Aunt Catherine, that I broke your 
porcelain coffee pot,” remarked Mr. Oakwood, pouring 
her a second cup from the shining silver coffee pot. “You 
wouldn’t sell it to me at a fair price, would you, Auntie?” 

“What in the world would you do with the old trash?” 
she asked in a tone of surprise. 

“I want to add to my collection of antiques,” he ex¬ 
plained good-humoredly. 

“You do use such big words,” laughingly declared the 
old woman. “What are antiques anyway?” 

“Haven’t you noticed the old cabinet near the fire¬ 
place?” he asked. “It came into my possession with the 
Manor house, and is worth thousands of crowns. It is a 
relic of the Sixteenth century, and an heirloom of the 
Bielertz family. Baroness Aurelia used it as a repository 
for the curios she collected on her foreign travels, and I 
aim to continue the practice.” 

Ella stood looking with mouth agape, now at the cabi¬ 
net and now at its owner. 

“Thousands of crowns!” she cried. “Do you mean to 
say, Uncle Victor, that that old thing is worth so much 
money ?” 

“Yes, Ella, its age and rarity make it worth that much.” 

“How terribly rich you must be!” 

“And how terribly impertinent you are, Ella!” said her 
mother, with a shake of the head. 

Ella cast down her eyes in confusion. But Mr. Oak- 
wood only smiled at her, and said: 


Ella’s Treasure 133 

“Yes, Ella; God has given me much wealth, but I re¬ 
gard myself only as His steward. You must pray God 
for me, that He make me faithful in my stewardship.” 

“I have already begun to pray for you,” Ella declared. 
“But if I were you, Uncle Victor, I’d know what to do 
with God’s money.” 

“Well, out with it! Perhaps I will find it possible to 
follow your advice.” 

“It’s worth following, I tell you,” she asserted posi¬ 
tively, much to the amusement of her elders. 

Noticing their amusement, Ella blushed. But so inter¬ 
ested was she in the thought of Mr. Oakwood’s steward¬ 
ship, that she forgot all else, and continued: 

“I would build an orphanage like the picture I saw in 
our Sunday-school paper, where poor children could learn 
to love Jesus, and have a home, and be clothed and fed, 
and not need to go cold and hungry. Only to-day I 
saw—” 

But her feelings overpowered her, and she burst into 
tears. 

“Come, Ella,” said Mr. Oakwood; “tell me what you 
saw. No, Aunt Catherine; don’t hinder her. I want to 
know what she saw.” 

“I saw a poor, ragged woman on the highway, when 
we came here this morning,” sobbed Ella. “And oh, she 
looked so sad, and she had a little boy not any bigger than 
this, and he was just like Esse, and he had no shoes al¬ 
though it’s October now, and his feet were red from cold, 
and his hair stuck out through a large hole in his hat, and 
he cried and cried—” 

“Just like my little Ella,” interposed Mr. Oakwood 
gently. “But don’t cry any more, dear. The woman and 
her child have had a good dinner in the kitchen, and the 


Ella’s Treasure 


134 

little boy that looks just like Esse is asleep now in the 
little rear chamber.” 

“O, I’m so glad!” cried Ella. “I do hope, though, that 
he will find a home, for I don’t think his mama can take 
care of him.—But, Uncle Victor, what have you got in 
that fine cabinet of yours?” 

“I ought to know that,” said Gertrude, approaching the 
cabinet. “I have picked over and rearranged its contents 
many times while I was maid here. The baroness was an 
eager collector. But I suppose there are numerous addi¬ 
tions since my day.” 

“We might amuse ourselves a while by examining the 
contents. I haven’t looked into it since I mended the lock 
for the baroness years ago,” said Mr. Oakwood, producing 
a key of peculiar shape, and inserting it in the lock. 

“That’s kind of you, Papa,” said little Victoria soberly. 
“Ella said that she couldn’t sleep to-night, unless she got 
a peep into the cabinet. 

After several vain attempts to turn the key Mr. Oak- 
wood smilingly said: 

“I’m afraid Ella is doomed to a night of wakefulness, 
for the lock refuses to budge.” 

“I can’t explain why I am so eager to look into the cabi¬ 
net,” said Ella artlessly. 

“Perhaps you think that old Ella’s treasure is concealed 
in it,” jested Grandma Catherine, rising from the table 
and thanking Marie for the coffee. 

“You are always teasing me about old Ella’s treasure; 
but come now, Grandma; perhaps you and I can find it,” 
Ella cried, skipping over to the cabinet, which by this time 
had relented, and now disclosed a confusing maze of 
drawers and apartments filled with precious relics of by¬ 
gone days. 


Ella’s Treasure 135 

All but Otto hastened to obtain a view of the contents. 

“Here is a drawer of shells of many shapes and colors,” 
said Gertrude who was best acquainted with the contents 
of the cabinet. “The baroness brought them home from 
her last trip on the Mediterranean. 

“I should like to take a look at them, if I could scram¬ 
ble up from the depths of this chair,” said Otto. 

“Wait, Papa, I’ll bring the whole drawer to you. 
May I, Uncle Victor?” asked Ella. 

“Certainly, Ella,” said Victor, pulling out the drawer. 

Ella carried the drawer eagerly to her father; but in her 
haste she failed to see a footstool in her way, and stumbled 
over it, sending the drawer and its contents crashing to 
the floor. Shells of all kinds rolled merrily all over the 
floor, as if glad to escape from their long imprisonment. 

There stood Ella as a veritable image of fright, while 
cries of alarm rose to the lips of the ladies present. 

“There is nothing to be alarmed at,” said Mr. Oak- 
wood good-humoredly. “We’ll all help to pick them up.” 

“But the drawer!” mourned Ella. “The crash must 
have broken it into many pieces. O, I’m so sorry!” 

“Let me pick it up. The damage can be repaired, I’m 
sure,” said Mr. Oakwood, carefully lifting the drawer 
from the floor. The bottom had not come out, for there 
were still some shells left in it. But to their surprise 
there lay another bottom on the floor, and on it an un¬ 
bound book yellow with age, its first page bearing an 
inscription of antique, ornate lettering. 

“Old secrets come to light!” cried Mr. Oakwood with 
interest, picking up the ancient manuscript. “The drawer 
had a false bottom. There, Ella; don’t look so unhappy. 
Who knows but that your misadventure may turn out 
luckily? Let us see what we have discovered?” 


Ella’s Treasure 


136 

All gathered around Mr. Oakwood eagerly, while he 
with difficulty deciphered the faded title page: 

DIARY FOR THE YEAR 1 7OO, 

KEPT BY 

REGINA VON BIELERTZ. 

“It’s a diary of the Baroness, Lady von Bielertz,” he de¬ 
clared, permitting the old document to fall open at ran¬ 
dom. He stood for some time lost in study of its yellow 
pages, his interest steadily increasing as he read. 

“At last,” he finally exclaimed, “we have an authentic 
account of old Ella, the so-called witch. A valuable and 
interesting find, indeed! That was the luckiest stumble 
you ever made, Ella. I suppose you all want to hear it?” 

Yes, they were all eager to hear. So they sat down in 
a circle around him, and listened with bated breath as to 
a voice from the spirit world. Even Esse, whose little 
legs had grown weary with much romping, sat mute and 
quiet on his father’s knee. 

Ella’s shining eyes were wide open with interest, and 
she snuggled up closely to Mr. Oakwood, as if fearful of 
losing a single word. 


Ella’s Treasure 


i 37 


CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
Regina von Bielertz’s Diary. 


June 10th: 

This morning I again paid a visit to the memorial stone 
of my sainted Aunt Ragnhild. It stands near the river on 
a beautiful promontory shaded by towering trees. None 
of my relatives seem willing to approach the place, and I 
have often wondered who keeps it so neat and trim. But 
to-day the riddle was solved: for as I approached the 
place, I saw an old woman there, bent and shriveled with 
age. Without being noticed, I stopped behind an oak to 
watch her. She was busily engaged in removing dead 
leaves and sticks. This done, she fell on her knees, raised 
her trembling arms to heaven, and prayed so softly that 
the only words to reach me were: “My father and my 
mother have forsaken me } hut Jehovah will take me up.” 
The old woman’s actions aroused my interest, but for 
some reason I did not venture to approach and question 
her. 

On my return to the house I met old Kama, our 
kitchen maid, and I asked her what she knew about the 
old woman whom I described to her. 

Old Kama’s eyes opened wide with terror as she whis¬ 
pered: “God save you, my Lady! Have you encountered 
that child of evil?” 

“Is she a wicked old woman?” I asked. 

“Wicked! La, me! She’s an old witch, and in league 
with the devil himself. She ought to have been burned at 
the stake long ago. But you see our master, the baron, 
promised his sainted father, who in turn had promised his 


Ella’s Treasure 


138 

sainted father to take care of her as long as she lived, be¬ 
cause she had once been the playmate of the sainted Lady 
Ragnhild.” 

Bidding old Kama walk with me in the park, I learned 
from her what I have hereafter set down. 

Old Ella the witch was a foundling discovered tucked 
up in a basket in the cellar entry one morning in early 
autumn. No one knew, or ever discovered, where the 
little creature came from. But the gentry at the Manor 
interested themselves in the nameless child, had her chris¬ 
tened Ella, and placed her in the care of a wet nurse. 
When she was able to walk, the baron received her into 
his household and treated her with every mark of kind¬ 
ness. Many were the whispered conjectures regarding 
the child, and it was generally believed that she was no 
common foundling of obscure origin, but rather a close, 
though unacknowledged, relative of the baronial family. 

When Ella was two years old, the baroness became the 
mother of a daughter who received the name of Ragnhild. 
As she grew up, Ella and Ragnhild were inseparable play¬ 
mates, although Baroness Adele did not look with favor 
upon the foundling Ella. 

When the baron set out for the war, the happy, care¬ 
free days were at an end for Ella. She was set to watch 
sheep in summer, and to serve as kitchen maid in winter. 
But prying eyes soon discovered that the two playmates 
had frequent meetings on the rocky point where Ragn- 
hild’s monument now stands. What they did there God 
only knows, for the forest was young and thick in those 
days. But people who passed declared that they often 
heard sounds of weeping issuing from their secret meeting 
place. It was clear to see that Ella’s company was doing 
Ragnhild no good, for she became quiet and sober, and 


Ella’s Treasure 139 

found no pleasure in the light-hearted sports of her equals 
of noble rank. Before long it was whispered about that 
Ella had bewitched her,'for by this time it was generally 
accepted that Ella was a witch and in league with the 
devil. 

Shortly after the baron’s return from the wars young 
Lady Ragnhild died at the age of sixteen. People re¬ 
marked that her mother bore the loss with unusual calm, 
seeing that Ragnhild was her only daughter. 

Meanwhile report spread that Lady Ragnhild had se¬ 
cured the consent of her parents to will a large sum of 
money to Ella, so that she might be well provided for. 
Ragnhild further asked to be buried on the Point which 
had been her favorite haunt in life. But this her father 
would not consent to. His daughter must find her last 
resting place in the baronial crypt in the Manor church. 
He yielded so far, however, that he promised to erect a 
memorial stone at her favorite playground on the Point. 

“Wasn’t it strange,” said old Kama in the course of her 
narrative, “that Lady Ragnhild was unwilling to rest in 
consecrated ground, but preferred to be buried in the dark 
woods on the Point where evil spirits have their haunts? 
There are people who say that they saw Ella whisk Ragn¬ 
hild away through the air more than once. But what 
became of Ella’s inheritance no Christian man or woman 
ever learned. Either the baroness forgot all about it, or, 
as people believe, she feared to hand over so much money 
to the dangerous girl. And now old Ella goes about look¬ 
ing for her treasure, and asking everybody who is un¬ 
lucky enough to meet her. For they all shun her as the 
plague, and turn aside when they see her crooked form 
approaching.” 

I asked old Kama where the ill-reputed woman lived, 


Ella’s Treasure 


140 

and I was surprised to learn that she inhabits a little cot¬ 
tage on the Point near the kilns, and that she is assured of 
support from North River Manor as long as she lives. 

June 15th. 

I have now met the queer old woman whom my rela¬ 
tives avoid, and about whom old Kama tried to frighten 
me. I saw her again at Ragnhild’s monument, and de¬ 
termined to have a word with her. She seemed surprised 
when I went up to her and asked her how she was getting 
along. A subtle smile hovered about her lips when she 
replied : 

“I have all that I could wish, dear Lady. My father 
has provided well for me.” 

I was amazed that a foundling could speak so brazenly 
of her father; but she, as if reading my thoughts, hastened 
to say: 

“I mean my Father in heaven, who says: 'Even to old 
age I am he, and even to hoar hairs will I carry you* 
Tell me, dear lady; are you in His keeping, or do you 
walk in ways apart from Him?” 

Her question rather took me aback, and I had no 
answer to give her. But the more I looked into her gen¬ 
tle old face and eyes, the more I felt convinced that the 
ugly rumors about her were untrue, though I must con¬ 
fess that she did look strange and almost awe-inspiring. 
She was not chary of words, however, but answered all 
my questions in a friendly manner, and in language that 
bore evidence of culture. When I turned to leave her, 
she raised her hand in mute farewell. 

June 20th. 

To-day I have had a long talk with old Ella. It almost 
seemed as if we had made an appointment to meet at 
Ragnhild’s Cliff, for there she was before me. She had 


Ella’s Treasure 


141 

already set the open ground around the monument in 
order when I arrived, and so I followed her along the 
river path until we came in sight of her cottage. I was 
filled with a strong desire to see how a reputed witch 
lived, but I did not venture to make it known. 

Again she seemed to read my thoughts; for when we 
stopped at the door, she asked with a subtle smile: 

“Dear Lady, would you like to step in and see how an 
old witch lives?” 

“Why do people call you a witch, Ella?” I asked in 
some confusion. 

A lingering moment she stood looking into my eyes be¬ 
fore she replied: 

“Why did people say of our Lord and Saviour: ‘He 
hath a demon and is madf” 

“You mean that the charge against you is equally false,” 
I said, after having weighed her words a moment. 

“Not that alone, Lady Regina. Christ Himself says: 
‘If they have called the master of the household Beelze¬ 
bub, how much more them of his household! 

Her words seemed rather bold; but the more I reflected 
on them, the more convinced of their truth I became. So 
I replied: 

“I don’t put much faith in people’s idle talk, Ella. I 
believe that your reputation belies you, and I’ll be glad 
to have you receive me in your home.” 

The exterior of the cottage was sadly dilapidated, but 
the interior was surprisingly neat and orderly. 

“How are you able to keep everything so spick-and- 
span?” I inquired. “You seem too old and frail for much 
exertion.” 

Ella’s smile was full of pathos, as she replied: 


Ella’s Treasure 


142 

“Not many feet tramp over my clean floor. Most peo¬ 
ple won’t even look this way, and those who might feel 
inclined to visit me dare not risk their reputation to do 
so—all but you, Lady Regina.” 

It cut me to the heart to hear her gentle lament. 

“You feel pretty lonesome, then, don’t you, Ella?” 

“I am not alone, for Christ my Saviour is ever near me. 
But strange feelings stir within me, now that a fellow 
mortal—pardon me for calling you so, Lady Regina— 
has approached me in kindness, and does not regard me as 
the scum of mankind. God’s love is the light of our life, 
and without it we walk in darkness; but somehow even 
the lowliest of us feel the need of their fellow men.” 

Unshed tears gleamed in her sunken eyes. My heart 
went out to her. A great longing, coupled with fear and 
awe, laid hold on me. A thousand questions pressed 
within me for an answer, but a feeling of uneasiness im¬ 
pelled me to quit the presence of this strange woman. 

“Must you go so soon?” old Ella asked sadly. 

“Dinner is waiting for me, I fear. But we will soon 
meet again at Ragnhild’s monument,” I said, pressing her 
wrinkled old hand. 

The strange stirrings within give me no rest. How 
horrified my relatives would be, if they knew that I am 
yearning to be like Ella! But at the same time there is a 
feeling of guilt within me. 

Have I done wrong to visit one whom all the world 
shuns? Is it true that she is in league with evil powers, 
and that she has already bewitched me? 

To-morrow I accompany my brother and his wife to 
the capital. Much can happen in a month. I wonder if 
I will see old Ella again. 


Ella’s Treasure 


43 


August 9th. 

Yesterday we returned to North River Manor. Our 
stay at the capital was longer than expected. How glad 
I am to be back among these peaceful scenes again! 

To-day I felt a longing to learn how old Ella* was 
faring. But as I did not venture to inquire, I took a 
walk to Ragnhild’s Cliff in hopes of finding Ella there. 
But evidently she had not been there lately, for withered 
wreaths hung on the stone, and the ground was littered 
with twigs and leaves. 

Taking a boat, I rowed down toward Ella’s cottage. 
Yesterday the whole family took a pleasure trip down the 
river, and I called attention to the dilapidated condition 
of the old cottage, and suggested its restoration. The 
baroness would not hear to it, however, as in her opinion 
it enhanced the picturesqueness of the view. 

How sadly unequal our lots have fallen in this life! 
Better for my peace of mind not to ponder on it! 

I found the surroundings of the cottage as inviting as 
upon my former visit. Ella loves to surround herself 
with flowers. Upon entering the cottage I found her 
seated at the table, her Bible open before her. 

“Good morning, dear Lady!” she replied, rising labori¬ 
ously to curtsy, though I bade her sit still. “God be 
praised that I am able to sit up and read my Bible. My 
poor old bones have been aching a few days, so that I 
have not left the house. But He is with me even here, 
dear Lady. He never leaves my side.” 

“You mean God, Ella?” 

“Right you are, Lady Regina. God speaks to me in 
His Word. 'Jehovah is ?ny shepherd; I shall not want.’ ” 

“But, Ella, you are old and frail, and I know that your 


Ella’s Treasure 


144 

means are very meager. Under such circumstances your 
lot must be sad indeed.” 

“No, no, Lady Regina; I am happier and richer than 
you are,” she declared earnestly. 

“You mean that you are happy and contented with 
your lot; and I am glad of that. But I do not think that 
many, similarly situated, w T ould feel as you do about it.” 

“If they were really similarly situated, they would.” 

“But you know, Ella, that there are countless old and 
sick and poor people in the world, who are far from 
happy.” 

“But old Ella is not poor. She has more of true riches 
and happiness than you can realize.” 

Her sunken eyes lit up with an unearthly light. A shud¬ 
der passed over me at the thought that the rumors con¬ 
cerning her might, after all, not be without foundation. 
But looking into her gentle old face, I promptly dismissed 
the thought as unworthy. Then another thought oc¬ 
curred to me, and I asked: 

“Is it true, Ella, that you have a great treasure hidden 
away somewhere? It is said that before Lady Ragnhild 
died she willed you a large sum of money which never 
came into your possession.” 

“Lady Ragnhild—may her soul have the joys of heaven, 
and her body rest in peace—did promise me something 
before she died. But I did not attach much importance to 
it, and besides, your grandmother, the Baroness Adele, 
was—she was—but why tear up old wounds! I have a 
better treasure hidden away in this blessed volume. Hid¬ 
den from those who do not seek it with believing hearts, 
but revealed to those who seek it in faith and earnest 
prayer. That treasure is Jesus Christ, the Son of God, 


Ella’s Treasure 


i 45 

our Saviour,” the old woman concluded with shining eyes 
and in a tone of deepest reverence. 

I sat a while in silence, wondering if what the world 
regarded as foolishness in this old woman was not, after 
all, the highest wisdom. How else could she be so con¬ 
tented and happy? 

As often before, she again seemed to read my thoughts; 
for she stretched forth her hands to me, and pleaded: 

“Seek the treasure, Lady Regina. Seek old Ella’s treas¬ 
ure. It will make you happier and richer than if you 
owned all of North River Manor. Without it you 
are poor, though all the world were yours.” 

“All the world!” The last words I had heard old Ella 
read as I entered were: “gain the whole world , and for¬ 
feit his life ” How the words keep re-echoing in my soul! 
Not yet, however, was I ready to face their solemn im¬ 
port, so I said lightly: 

“People are positive, Ella, that you are seeking for your 
lost inheritance, and that you visit Ragnhild’s monument 
so often, because you believe that the treasure is buried 
there.” 

The old woman’s face lit up with a smile as she replied: 

“When my dear Lady Ragnhild lay on her deathbed, 
her people relented so far as to let me pay her a last visit. 
In answer to her earnest prayer I then promised to keep 
our playground on the Point free and open, and to hang 
fresh wreaths on the stone her father had promised to 
erect there. A promise to the dying is sacred, and so I 
have kept mine as best I could. Will you, Lady Regina, 
promise to continue this labor of love after old Ella’s 
bones are resting in the ground? I know of no one else 
that I can ask.” 


Ella’s Treasure. 10 . 


Ella’s Treasure 


146 

“Yes, I promise, Ella. I comprehend now why people 
misunderstood you when you ask them to seek the hidden 
treasure. They can think of nothing but the earthly 
treasure you have lost.” 

“How can I keep from exhorting the people I meet to 
seek the pearl of great price?” Ella gently asked. “And 
when scoffers ask me if I have found the treasure yet, I 
tell them to seek in their Bibles, and they will find it, as I 
have found it. They smile in scorn or pity, but I cannot 
silently look on while they are rushing to destruction.” 

“But surely, Ella, you do not maintain that all who do 
not believe as you do are rushing headlong to destruction!” 
I exclaimed in a tone of displeasure, though in my heart I 
knew that she was right. 

“Dear Lady, high and low are living for this life alone. 
North River Manor has become a Babylon of ungodliness 
and wickedness. It was not thus in the days of your 
grandfather, Lady Regina. God is patient and longsuf- 
fering; but when the hour comes His righteous wrath will 
fall heavily upon the unrepentant.” 

On my way home I pondered much on Ella’s words. 
At North River Manor my deceased forbears were always 
spoken of as the “sainted” dead, and until now I had never 
doubted the propriety of this. But now—must Ella’s 
treasure be sought in Ella’s way? Were my departed 
ancestors numbered among the sainted dead? And what 
about my living relatives—to what goal were their lives 
tending? And above all, what was I making of my own 
life? Why did I feel that Ella had spoken truly when 
she said that she was richer and happier than I ? These 
thoughts disturb me strangely, as I conclude this entry in 
my diary. 


Ella’s Treasure 


147 

The reader paused, and began to turn over the pages 
still unread. 

“We haven’t time to read it all,” he said; “but I would 
really like to know if Lady Regina found Ella’s treasure 
at last. These following pages seem to be devoted to sad 
reflections upon her own spiritual state. I see no further 
mention of visits to Ella’s cottage. Ah! Here Ella’s 
name appears again.” 

“Read, Uncle Victor, read!” begged Ella, pale with 
suppressed emotion. 

Eagerly the others joined in her plea. So, Mr. Oak- 
wood again resumed the reading. 

September 1st. 

Although my family highly disapprove of my visits to 
old Ella, I could not resist the desire to call on her to-day. 
She is now so frail that she must keep her bed, and she was 
overjoyed to see me, as of late I have been reading to her 
from her precious Bible. 

“I can see that you have had a bad night, Ella,” I said, 
though her smile was bright and cheerful as of old. 

“I’m nearing the goal, Lady Regina,” she replied. “Old 
Ella will soon behold the glory of her heavenly King. 
I’m so glad you came. Won’t you read to me once more 
the Word of Life?” 

I sat down at the table on which her large Bible lay 
open. 

“Your Bible is too large and cumbersome,” I remarked. 
“It must have cost you quite a sum of money. Tell me 
how you got it, Ella.” 

“I’ll be glad to tell you the story of my precious Bible, 
for it is also the story of my life. It starts way back in 
my girlhood. It was then my pleasure and duty to attend 
upon Lady Ragnhild, who was two years younger than I. 


Ella’s Treasure 


148 

We were often permitted and even encouraged to spend 
whole days in the Manor library, turning over the leaves 
of its many books and looking at the pictures in them. 
Our greatest delight, however, was to pore over the cop¬ 
perplate engravings in a large Bible dating from 1618, 
and containing a likeness of Gustavus Adolphus on one of 
its first pages. As the Bible was very cumbersome and 
we were only little girls then, we would place it on the 
floor and lie prone to study the pictures and read a passage 
here and there. For you are to know that Lady Ragn- 
hild and I learned to read at the same time. 

“And now, Lady Regina, I will mention a^matter which 
I hope will give no offense to you. In my girlhood the 
maids and servants of the Manor were foolish enough to 
whisper in my ear that I was no less highborn than Lady 
Ragnhild herself, and that, therefore, my claims to wealth 
and position were equal to hers. This was a source of 
great satisfaction to me, although I was wise enough to 
make no mention of it, not even to my friend and play¬ 
mate Lady Ragnhild. Then, one day, as we were turn¬ 
ing over the pages of the old Bible, my eye fell on the 
words in Matthew 16: 26: ' What shall a man be profited, 
if he shall gain the whole world, and forfeit his lifef* 

“These words were as good seed planted in my young 
heart, and destined to bear blessed, abundant fruit. No 
longer did I listen with pleasure to the kitchen gossip re¬ 
garding my noble parentage. Instead, I sought and found 
in Him who had spoken these solemn words my Lord and 
Saviour. 

“Soon thereafter Lady Ragnhild and I were separated, 
and I was given other things to do than to lie on the 
library floor and read the Bible. Meanwhile an intense 
longing had been kindled within me to possess a Bible like 


Ella’s Treasure 


149 

the one in the Manor library, though I knew it was fool¬ 
ish for a poor foundling to harbor such a thought. But 
when Lady Ragnhild and I were to be confirmed—she 
was 14 and I 16 years old then—the baron one day handed 
me a small purse of money. He explained that this money 
represented the principal and interest of a gold coin found 
sewed in my clothing when I was picked up as a foundling 
at his door. This w~as Ella’s first treasure, dear Lady, 
for up to this time my whole wealth consisted of a few 
small coins received in tips from guests at the Manor. At 
once my dormant hopes were aroused to new life. I gave 
myself no rest until I had found out how much a Bible 
like the one in the library would cost. But the price was 
greater than all my wealth; so I again deposited my treas¬ 
ure in the bank, together with the slender earnings de¬ 
rived from tips. As a result I soon gained the reputation 
of being a miser, and many were the cruel words and 
taunts flung at me by mistress and servants alike. 

“At last the longed-for day arrived when I had money 
enough to buy a Bible. There was at that time an old 
bookkeeper in the baron’s office who had befriended me. 
As he was going to the capital on business, he promised 
to buy the Bible for me. 

“How can I describe the joy that filled my heart when 
at last I held the precious volume in my arms—an inher¬ 
itance from my poor mother whose very name was un¬ 
known to me! But if my joy was great, the jealousies and 
suspicions of those about me grew daily more pronounced. 
I came to be regarded as a witch, and my big Bible as a 
book of magic, by whose aid I was guilty of many dark 
and evil practices. This talk soon reached the ears of the 
baroness, who promptly banished me from the house and 


Ella’s Treasure 


150 

forbade all future intercourse between Lady Ragnhild and 
myself. 

“Through the baron’s intervention I found a home 
with the nurse who had cared for me as a baby. She was 
now a poor widow, and was glad to receive me; for I was 
young and strong, and able to support us both. I had 
learned fine sewing and embroidery at the Manor, and 
was therefore rarely out of work. 

“To my great joy my foster-mother soon came to regard 
‘Ella’s treasure’ as her greatest treasure also. The one 
great sorrow of my life at that time was my separation 
from Lady Ragnhild. Now and then I caught a glimpse 
of her sweet, pale face as she passed the cottage where I 
lived—the very same cottage in which you are now sit¬ 
ting, Lady Regina, listening to an old witch’s tale of by¬ 
gone days. If she thought that she was unobserved, she 
would steal up to the window and exchange a hasty word 
with me. It pierced me to the heart to observe how wan 
and thin she was. 

“One day word reached me from the Manor that my 
dear Ragnhild lay dying. How earnestly I prayed to God 
that He would cleanse her in the blood of the Lamb, and 
take her unto Himself! On a bright spring morning she 
was borne to her last resting place in the baronial crypt 
of the Manor church. With breaking heart I witnessed 
from a distance the passing of her funeral train. The 
black pall that covered her coffin blotted out all the joy 
and brightness of the balmy day. Sadly I mourned her 
untimely death, and found it difficult then to rejoice in 
the better lot that now was hers. 

“Shortly after her death it began to be rumored that 
she had left a large inheritance to me, her friend and play¬ 
mate. I knew that it was her dearest wish to provide for 


Ella’s Treasure 


I 5 J 

me; but I also knew that nothing would come of it be¬ 
cause of the bitter hatred of the baroness toward me. But 
young and strong as I was, I thought little or nothing of 
the rumored inheritance, trusting to God in heaven for 
my daily bread. 

“When I was 26 years old, my foster-mother died, leav¬ 
ing me alone in a world full of bitterness and hatred. 
Word came that I must leave the cottage where I for 
years had found a peaceful home. Other tenants were to 
occupy it, and the truth came home to me that the gentry 
at the Manor desired to get rid of me altogether. So I 
determined to seek employment on a baronial estate at 
some distance; but the rumor of my witchcraft had pre¬ 
ceded me, my application was refused, and all the world 
seemed suddenly closed to me. 

“In my despair I turned -to God and implored Him to 
take me in His keeping. As if in answer to my prayer I 
learned of an old woman who dwelt in a small cottage in 
the forest. People called her a pietist as a term of re¬ 
proach ; and though I did not then know what the term 
meant, I felt instinctively that she must be a kindred 
spirit. So I sought her out, and found her all that I had 
hoped. Here, then, I found a peaceful home at last, and 
a kind motherly friend, trained in the same school of 
adversity as myself. But my trials were not yet over. A 
protracted illness swallowed up my slender savings, and 
deprived me of the power to support myself and my aged 
friend. 

“But as often before, God proved Himself a helper 
in time of need. Word reached me that Baron von Bie- 
lertz had died, saved by the grace of God as a brand from 
the burning. On his deathbed he had exacted a promise 
from his son and successor to seek me out, restore me to 


Ella’s Treasure 


152 

my old home in this cottage, and grant me an annuity for 
life. As the old baroness had died some time before, there 
was no one to hinder the carrying out of these provisions. 

“When I was able to move about after my long sick¬ 
ness, I hastened to revisit Ragnhild’s monument. I found 
the place in sad disorder. Weeds and underbrush had ob¬ 
literated every trace of grassy lawn and flowers. From 
that day I spent much time there, taking sad pleasure in 
keeping our favorite haunt of long ago as neat and invit¬ 
ing as possible. 

“This, however, soon gave rise to the report that the 
crazed old Ella firmly believed her promised inheritance 
to be buried near Ragnhild’s monument, and that she 
therefore haunted the place night and day.” 

“You were never married, then, were you, Ella?” I in¬ 
quired, breaking into her story. 

“No, my Lady,” she replied. “Christ was the only 
bridegroom of my heart.” 

“But you must have been beautiful in your young days,” 
I declared, looking into her fine old face, that still bore 
traces of former comeliness. “Was there not one to lay 
siege to your hand and heart?” 

“No one, dear Lady,” she replied. “My reputation as 
a witch erected a barrier between me and all ties of 
human love; and besides, how could I let a bridal crown 
imperil my possession of the crown of life?” 

All my training in life rose up against a view so narrow 
and unusual, but in my secret heart I knew that she was 
right. 

After resting awhile to regain her strength old Ella re¬ 
sumed : 

“While I am still in possession of my senses, I wish to 
make known to you my last will, and to declare you as 


Ella’s Treasure 153 

my heir, dear Lady Regina. The only inheritance I have 
to leave you is my precious Bible—old Ella’s treasure. 
You will not deny our spiritual kinship in Christ Jesus, 
even if you are not ready to acknowledge a blood rela¬ 
tionship between us. Ishmael was banished—even as I— 
he w*as not Sarah’s son—and did not share in the inherit¬ 
ance—but Abraham’s son he was—as well as Isaac. Tell 
me, Lady Regina, will you be the heir of the inheritance I 
have to give?” 

“Yes, Aunt Ella,” I said, calling her for the first time 
by a name which something within told me was her just 
due. “I consider myself rich indeed to be the heiress of 
Ella’s treasure. The first Word of life to penetrate my 
darkened soul was read to me by you out of that precious 
Book.” 

“May the blessings of a dying old woman rest upon 
you, Lady Regina. What were the words you heard me 
read?” 

“Your own favorite passage, dear Aunt Ella: r What 
shall a man be profited—■ ” 

“How wonderful are the ways of God!” she exclaimed. 
“(That makes another bond between us. But listen, and 
you shall hear what became of that particular passage in 
my Bible.” 

“O, it’s torn out!” I cried. For while Aunt Ella was 
speaking, I had turned to the chapter, and found the 
passage mission. 

“Alas, dear Lady, my Kitty Prince is the culprit. He 
is the wisest and kindest cat in the world, and my con¬ 
stant companion for the last three years. But he is play¬ 
ful and careless by nature. One day, while I was asleep, 
he had jumped up on the table and lay dozing on my open 
Bible. When I awoke I called sharply to him, causing 



154 Ella’s Treasure 

him to leap in alarm from the table, his sharp claws tear¬ 
ing off the lower corner of the page on which he had been 
lying. I was horrified more than angered by the accident, 
for I was more to blame than Kitty Prince.” 

“But you preserved the fragment, did you not?” I in¬ 
quired. 

“Yes, I keep it in a small metal box in the chest over 
there,” Ella replied. “When I am gone, I want you to 
take charge, not only of my Bible, but also of the metal 
box and Kitty Prince, otherwise some one will kill the 
old witch’s cat, or he will starve or freeze to death. Will 
you promise to do this for me, Lady Regina?” 

I gave her the desired promise, and asked her if there 
was any other request she had to make. 

“No, my Lady,” she replied. “I am only waiting now 
for life’s long night to pass, and for the dawning of an 
eternal day. I pray God that you and I may meet one day 
in heaven above.” 

“God grant it, dear Aunt Ella,” I said gently. Then 
I said good-night, and left her to her rest. 

October 20th. 

To-day old Ella has entered into full possession of her 
hidden treasure. God rest her soul! I sat holding her 
hand when her spirit passed away to join the ransomed 
souls in heaven. Her last words to me were: Jehovah 
is my light and my salvation* I feel her loss deeply. She 
was an angel of heaven sent to lead me out of darkness 
into light. It may be that I shall suffer and be misunder¬ 
stood, as dear old Ella was. God grant that I may be as 
steadfast in the faith even unto the end! 

October 22nd. 

Yesterday Ella’s poor body was laid to rest in the grave. 
The burial was hastened on account of the superstitious 


Ella’s Treasure 155 

dread that pursued her even in death. Men feared that 
if her mortal remains were left above the ground, her 
spirit might still have power to haunt them and to do 
them harm. Alas, her days on earth were not so bright 
that she should long to return to it again. Rest in peace, 
dear Ella! So long as I live I will cherish the thought 
of what your life has meant to me. 

To-day I went to Ella’s cottage to take possession of 
mv inheritance. It almost broke my heart to see the 
wanton desolation there. At the command of my brother, 
the new Baron von Beilertz, the cottage already lay in 
ruined heaps about the place. The chest was broken open, 
and its contents burned. After long and anxious search I 
at last found my precious Bible under a pile of rubbish 
in the excavation over which the cottage had stood. It 
was not greatly injured, so I wrapped it up and laid it 
tenderly aside while I hunted in vain for the metal box. 
But Ella’s faithful friend, Kitty Prince, made up to me at 
once, and now follows me about as though I had always 
been his mistress. 

My brother and sister-in-law smiled pityingly at me 
when I carried Ella’s Bible up to my rooms in the Manor. 
They regard me as bewitched, and have as little to do 
with me as possible. But courage, Regina. Your Saviour 
was reviled and persecuted, and as yet your sufferings are 
small in comparison with Ella’s. ‘If we endure, we shall 
also reign with him ” 

November 10th. 

To-day I visited Ella’s grave, and placed on it a wreath 
of laurel and myrtle. My two nieces looked with pity and 
disdain on me as I passed them in the park, and their 
whispered comment reached my ear: “Poor Aunt Re¬ 
gina!” May God in mercy open their eyes. 


Ella’s Treasure 


156 

There is much whispering among the servants about a 
ghost seen at Kiln Point. Several of them declare that 
they have seen old Ella pottering about her ruined cottage 
by night with gleaming lantern, looking for her lost treas¬ 
ure. 

Dear sainted soul! In your shining home on high you 
have not need of crumbling human habitations or earthly 
treasures. God grant that those who still walk in dark¬ 
ness may follow your example, Ella, and seek imperish¬ 
able treasures, guided by the light of God’s Holy Word! 


CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
Ragnhild’s Last Will and Testament. 

Mr. Oakwood permitted the yellow pages of the old 
diary to fall together in his hands, and sat a while lost in 
thought. Then he raised his eyes to Ella, who all the 
while stood leaning against his chair, her face tense and 
pale, and her eyes burning with suppressed emotion. 

“Ella,” he finally said; “now you know what old Ella’s 
treasure was.” 

“It was just what I wished,”’ she sighed, as if a burden 
had fallen from her heart. “I’m so glad that old Ella 
found that treasure. How happy I’ll be to meet her one 
day in heaven! You see, Grandma, that old Ella was not 
a witch as you supposed. But Lady Ragnhild—O, Uncle 
Victor, doesn’t it say in the diary that she got to heaven 
also?” 

“Read for yourself, Ella,” Mr. Oakwood replied, hand¬ 
ing her the old manuscript. 

All present had followed with interest the story of 


Ella’s Treasure 


157 

Ella’s life as recorded in Lady Regina’s diary, and they 
were eager to hear it to the end. 

“I propose,” said Mr. Oakwood, “that we pay you a 
return visit in a few days at Fair Point cottage. It will 
increase our pleasure to hear the rest of old Ella’s story 
on thewery scene where so many years of her life were 
spent.” 

Fruits and pastry were now brought in on a tray. All 
but Ella enjoyed the refreshments. She, however, could 
not be induced to interrupt her study of the manuscript 
until she had reached the last page. 

“I don’t find Lady Ragnhild’s name mentioned a sin¬ 
gle time more,” she said sadly, laying the book back in the 
drawer which her father had fitted together again. “Shall 
I try to place the drawer back in the cabinet, Uncle 
Victor?” 

“As you wish, Ella,” he replied; “but hurry, or you 
will miss your share of the refreshments.” 

While the others were eagerly discussing the interest¬ 
ing revelations contained in Lady Regina’s diary, Ella 
carefully carried the drawer back to the cabinet. Before 
inserting it, she reached her arm into the opening, .but 
hastily withdrew it, and cried: 

“Uncle Victor, there is something strange about the 
back part of this opening. What can it be?” 

Mr. Oakwood arose and explored the opening with his 
hand. 

“I can find nothing but the rear wall,” he said. 

“But why is this drawer shorter than the one above?” 
persisted Ella. 

Mr. Oakwood pulled out the upper drawer and com¬ 
pared the two. Much to his surprise he found that the 
lower one was six inches shorter. 


Ella’s Treasure 


158 

“There is something mysterious about this,” he re¬ 
marked. “Pull out the bottom drawer also, and let us 
see what we find.” 

This, too, was shorter than the upper drawer. Mr. 
Oakwood reached in and grasped the framework on 
which the two lower drawers rested. It came out with 
surprising ease, evidently fitted closely, but not fastened 
to the body of the cabinet. 

“Marie, will you bring us a light, please,” he said. 
“We must get to the bottom of this mystery.” 

Mrs. Oakwood hastily brought a light, and all gathered 
eagerly about the dark opening, as they had before gath¬ 
ered about the broken drawer. 

Mr. Oakwood searched the rear wall of the cabinet 
with his fingers, pressing the surface here and there, hop¬ 
ing to find a hidden spring. Suddenly all were startled 
by a whirring noise, and a secret door flew open, reveal¬ 
ing a dark, empty space. 

All stood watching him with bated breath, as he di¬ 
rected the light into the dark opening. But nothing but 
an empty void was to be seen. Then, reaching his hand 
down into the dark hole, he fumbled about until he 
touched the bottom. A hollow jingling sound was heard, 
and when he pulled out his hand it was full of gold and 
silver coins. 

“Please hand me a dish,” he said; “there is more of 
this in the hole.” 

Vera snatched the fruit dish from the table, sending 
apples and pears rolling in all directions over the floor. 
Time and again Mr. Oakwood’s hand came out of the 
hole, and the heap of coins in the dish grew steadily 
larger. Finally his hand came out with nothing but a 
folded sheet of paper, yellow with age. A moment Mr. 


Ella’s Treasure 159 

Oakwood stood holding the paper, and casting a chal¬ 
lenging look on Ella. 

“What wizardry is this, Ella?” he cried banteringly. 
“This is the second time to-day that hidden things have 
been revealed through your magic power.” 

“Fie, Uncle Victor, you don’t mean to call me a witch, 
do you? Is there any writing on the paper you hold in 
your hand?” 

“Yes there is, if it were only plain enough to read. 
Look, Ella, can you make out the writing?” he asked, 
holding the paper up before her eyes. 

Eagerly Ella scanned the paper, until her sharp eyes 
made out a signature at the bottom of the sheet. 

“Ragnhild von Bielertz!” she cried excitedly. “O, 
Uncle Victor, I am so glad you bought North River 
Manor and the old cabinet! If you hadn’t I would 
never have learned the story of Lady Ragnhild and old 
Ella. But read, Uncle; read it to us!” 

“My poor old head is all in a whirl!” cried Grandma 
Catherine. “What will we discover next, I wonder?” 

“And I,” said Gertrude, “feel as if I had been magi¬ 
cally transported to a former age. To think that L never 
discovered the difference in the drawers that I have 
opened and shut so often! You have sharper eyes than 
your mother, Ella. Were it not for the heap of coins in 
the dish, I would think that I was dreaming. I wonder 
what is written over Lady Ragnhild’s signature?” 

“This writing must be much older than Lady Regina’s 
diary,” said Otto Leander musingly. “Let’s see—Ragn¬ 
hild died at the age of sixteen, and Ella, who was two 
years older, must have lived to be eighty.” 

“I wish I could take matters as calmly as Otto,” ex- 


160 Ella’s Treasure 

claimed Mrs. Oakwood, with flushed cheeks. “I confess 
that I am just as excited as Ella.” 

Mr. Oakwood seemed not to hear their eager exclama¬ 
tions, as he stood closely studying the paper in his hand. 
Presently lights were turned on, and all gathered about 
the massive center table. 

“I must be going,” said Grandma Catherine. “The 
cow and the cat are both waiting for their supper. You 
can tell me some other time what is written on the 
paper.” 

“You are not going to leave us,” said Mrs. Oakwood 
firmly. “I will send our dairy maid over to do your 
chores. Let me give her the key, so that she can carry in 
the milk and feed the cat. Do you think that I will let 
you go now without learning the contents of the paper, 
and without your supper, too?” 

After many protests Grandma Catherine finally sur¬ 
rendered the key with the injunction: 

“Be sure, Marie, to tell the maid not to let the cat out.” 

“I don’t see how anybody can think of cows and cats 
at a moment like this,” pouted little Victoria. 

“Dear Papa, end the discussion, and let us hear what 
Lady Ragnhild has written,” pleaded Vera, winding her 
arms about Mr. Oakwood’s neck. 

Meanwhile the latter had perused the writing several 
times. It required both time and patience to make out 
the faded words, which had evidently been written by a 
trembling hand. Slowly and hesitatingly he read as fol¬ 
lows: 

“While I lie here on my deathbed, awaiting the hour 
when it shall please my dear Lord and Saviour, Jesus 
Christ, to release my ransomed soul from my weak and 
suffering body, and to receive it into the glory of heaven, 


Ella’s Treasure 


161 


I hereby of my own free will, in full possession of my 
mental faculties, and with the consent of my parents, give 
and bequeath to Ella, my foster-sister and dearest friend, 
through whose gentle guidance I have been led to a living 
faith in Jesus Christ, at present living with the widow 
Elson on Kiln Point, to have and own after my death, 
without encroachment of my legal heirs, the gold and 
silver coins received by me as a christening gift from my 
father, the honorable Major and Baron Arvid von Bie- 
lertz. I further express as my dying wish and desire that 
said Ella undertake to deck with wreaths and flowers the 
memorial stone my father the baron has promised to erect 
on the place where I in Ella’s company learned to know 
and love my blessed Lord and Saviour, and where the 
happiest days of my brief life on earth were spent. This 
my last will and testament I have devised with my own 
hand, in the fear of God, at North River Manor, on the 
ninth day of May in the year of our Lord One Thousand 
Six Hundred Thirty Eight. 

Ragnhild von Bielertz.” 


Kiln's Treasure. 


11 . 


Ella’s Treasure 


162 


CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
Ella Gets Her Way, and Stops Crying. 

Mr. Oakwood folded the paper and turned to Ella, 
who w~as again standing by his chair. 

“Ella,” he said with a smile; “you do not look so happy 
as I expected, now that you have reached the goal of your 
heart’s desire. How do you account for that, my dear?” 

“I’m thinking, Uncle Victor,” she replied, waving her 
hand for silence. 

For a minute or two she stood plunged in deep thought. 
Then in an undertone she spoke with frequent pauses: 

“Lady Ragnhild—safe with Jesus in heaven—old Ella 
likewise—and Lady Regina—whom I didn’t know of till 
to-day.—They forsook all things to follow Jesus.—They 
suffered for Christ’s sake—and now the joys of heaven are 
theirs.—Uncle Victor,” she cried, with happy voice and 
mien. “I am glad even if I don’t look it! I didn’t think 
that even God could be so good!” 

“How good, Ella?” Mr. Oakwood asked, eyeing her 
searchingly, as if he wished to study the rich soul-life of 
the girl before him. “Do you mean that you hardly be¬ 
lieved God could be so good as to take unto Himself those 
whose names you have mentioned?” 

“No, I knew that all the while,” she exclaimed with 
flashing eyes. “But that God should care about whether 
a little girl like me found out that persons living hundreds 
of years ago came to heaven, that I hardly believed God 
would bother with. You know, they were saved whether 
I knew it or not.” 


Ella’s Treasure 163 

“I’m afraid that’s true of more than you, my dear 
child,” Mr. Oakwood exclaimed. “We dare not believe 
that God is as good as He really is. He is always doing 
more for us than we dare hope.” 

“But think how unjust it was to deprive poor old Ella 
of the inheritance she needed so well!” sighed Grandma 
Catherine. “I can’t help being sorry for her.” 

“Perhaps she couldn’t have gone through a needle’s eye 
if she had been rich,” suggested Victoria soberly, re¬ 
calling a recent lesson from the Bible. 

“And then she might have lost the treasures of heaven,” 
added her sister Vera. 

“God knew better than Lady Ragnhild what His serv¬ 
ant Ella needed,” remarked Otto Leander. “Perhaps the 
gold on the dish before us would have defiled the pure 
gold of her humble faith. We may safely trust God to do 
the right thing.” 

‘Perhaps, also, God had other and better uses for this 
gold,” suggested Mr. Oakwood, giving Otto a meaning 
look. 

He had counted the money by this time, and placed it 
back in its century-long hiding place. 

But Grandma Catherine could not dismiss the thought 
of the injustice done old Ella. 

“I wonder,” she said, “if some wicked person didn’t 
bring it about that Ella was robbed of what was rightly 
hers.” 

“The will was not attested,” Mr. Oakwood explained. 
“That seems to prove that deception was resorted to. 
The whole transaction seems to have been undertaken to 
satisfy the wishes of a dying girl, the will itself being a 
mere empty formality. It is hard to understand why the 
will was not destroyed, and the money put to other use. 


Ella’s Treasure 


164 

In all probability so much of conscientious scruple re¬ 
mained that they dared not appropriate to their own use 
money bequeathed to another by a dying girl, although it 
did not accord with their plans to let Ella have what was 
hers by right.” 

“I hold the baron blameless, but not the baroness,” de¬ 
clared Marie, with conviction. “When her feelings or 
interests are at stake, a woman can be extremely wicked 
and cruel; so much I know my sex.” 

“The important question now is, Who is the rightful 
owner of Ella’s treasure? What do you think, Ella?” 
asked Mr. Oakwood. 

“Why, you of course, Uncle Victor. Didn’t you pay 
a thousand crowns for the cabinet?” 

“That’s very true; but the money is willed to Ella of 
Kiln Point. See, here it is in black and white,” said Mr. 
Oakwood, with a smile of peculiar significance. 

“Not to me, Uncle Victor!” was Ella’s startled cry. 

“Yes, I firmly believe that Ella’s treasure has been pre¬ 
served for you to this day. Aren’t you the one taking 
care of the testator’s memorial stone according to the pro¬ 
visions of the will?” 

“And besides,” said Marie, “she was the one who found 
Ella’s treasure.” 

“Yes, yes!” cried Victoria and Vera, throwing their 
arms about Ella. “Our Ella shall have old Ella’s treas¬ 
ure. She will be the rich heiress of Lady Ragnhild and 
old Ella.” 

But Ella tore herself from the embrace of her young 
friends, fled to the farthest corner of the room, and-burst 
into tears. 

Approaching the weeping girl, Mr. Oakwood took her 
hands in his, and asked gently: 


Ella’s Treasure 165 

“Don’t you want to be the owner of Ella’s treasure, 
my dear girl?” 

“Not that one—not the one in the old cabinet. Jesus 
says that where your treasure is, there is your heart also. 
—I don’t want my heart to be in the dark hole—with the 
gold and silver coins.—I want my treasure in heaven— 
where Ella had hers.—I want to die poor—as Ella did— 
and be rich toward God.” 

“Dear child, you already possess a treasure in heaven. 
If God has preserved this money for you, do you think 
He will allow it to work you harm? Suppose He wants 
you to invest it in His service.” 

“Would God take the money from old Ella, and let her 
freeze and starve, and then give it to me who do not need 
it? I can’t believe that of God. No, no; I don’t want 
the money! It’s hard for the rich to enter into the king¬ 
dom of heaven, and I don’t want to be rich.” 

“Ella’s treasure is not so great a wealth as you think, 
my dear girl. Only five or six thousand crowns at most.” 

“Don’t tempt her with the gold, Victor,” pleaded Mrs. 
Oakwood earnestly. 

“It will mean no temptation for Ella to accept this in¬ 
heritance from two such kindred spirits as Ragnhild and 
old Ella,” declared Mr. Oakwood, springing to his feet 
and regarding his friends with eyes sparkling with fervor 
and challenge. “On the contrary, the gold will enable 
her to do God’s work. Can’t you trace God’s finger in 
the discoveries we have made here to-day? It is my firm 
conviction that every step leading to the events of this 
day has been divinely directed. You spoke of an orphan¬ 
age, Ella, where little boys like Esse could find a home. 
Suppose you set aside your inheritance for such an institu- 


66 


Ella’s Treasure 


tion, and then prepare yourself to take charge of it some 
day. How would you like that, my dear?” 

“An orphanage, Uncle Victor!” cried Ella, with shin¬ 
ing eyes. “A home for little boys and girls who have no 
papa and mama! That would please old Ella, I’m sure; 
for you know she was a foundling herself. O, Uncle 
Victor, let’s build an orphanage right away!” 

“Not so fast, my dear,” said Mr. Oakwood, with a 
smile. “We must let Ella’s treasure grow for a few 
years. And then, you must go to school to prepare your¬ 
self to take charge of your orphanage when it is ready to 
receive its little charges. My superintendent, Mr. North, 
tells me there are many such little ones in this community. 
Well, Ella; why that sober look now?” 

“I was thinking that papa could not afford to send me 
to school,” she murmured. 

Mr. Oakwood laughed heartily at this, and said: 

“Some good uncle will see to that, I’m sure. But we 
must not forget to consult your parents about these plans 
of ours.” 

After some hesitation based on considerations of ex¬ 
pense that Mr. Oakwood would incur, Otto and Ger¬ 
trude finally yielded, their hearts filled with gratitude to 
God for the wonderful way in which He was transform¬ 
ing their days of darkness and affliction into days of sun¬ 
shine and happiness. 

“Uncle Victor,” said Ella soberly; “I just happened to 
think of something. The other day I had an errand to 
‘Smoke-Lena’s’ cottage. It was a stormy day, and the 
rain was pouring in through the leaky roof, so that Lena 
had to move her bed to the middle of the floor. Couldn’t 
we use some of Ella’s treasure to pay for repairing Lena’s 
roof?” 


Ella’s Treasure 


167 

“You little philanthropist!” exclaimed Mr. Oakwood. 
“Is ‘Smoke-Lena’ still alive? I used to visit her often, 
when a boy. I remember that she used to live in a tum¬ 
ble-down cottage built by some former von Bielertz as 
a summer house because of the fine view from it over 
lake and forest. I’m surprised that the cottage is still 
standing. So old Lena still lives there. She was a cheer¬ 
ful and God-fearing old soul.” 

“How can she be God-fearing if she smokes?” won¬ 
dered Vera. 

All laughed merrily at this. 

“She smokes hams ad sausages and such things,” ex¬ 
plained Grandma Catherine. 

“I wonder if she is like old Ella?” asked Victoria. 

“O no!” Ella declared. “She is not a bit like my Ella, 
except that she also loves Jesus. Old Lena is tall and thin 
and crooked, and she has black hair and little black eyes 
that sit deep in her head and shine like fire.” 

'All laughed at Ella’s description. 

“You mustn’t laugh at ‘Smoke-Lena’,” Ella pouted. 
“For though she is old and crooked, she is a nice and 
cheerful old woman, and I love her.” 

“Yes, I remember that she always had a cheerful word 
for me even when she found it necessary to scold me for 
my pranks,” remarked Mr. Oakwood. 

“O Papa,” pleaded Victoria; “let Ella have a new roof 
put on her cottage.” 

“And mama will let us bring her a basket of good 
things to eat,” added Vera. 

“How can you propose that Ella should pay for the new 
roof?” asked Mr. Oakwood, with pretended sternness. 
“She needs to save her inheritance for another purpose, 


168 Ella’s Treasure 

as you know. Can’t you think of some one else to lay the 
roof?” 

Victoria and Vera exchanged glances, then both cried 
in unison: 

“Would the money in our savings banks be enough to 
pay for the roof?” 

“I believe it would,” their father replied. “But you 
are saving that money for the support of a little heathen 
boy in the mission school in South Africa, aren’t you?” 

“But, Papa, we can’t let the rain pour down in poor 
old Lena’s bed, can we?” 

“Can’t you think of some one else who might help her?” 

“You, Papa; but—” 

“But me no buts,” laughed Mr. Oakwood. “Lena’s 
cottage is on my estate, and it is my moral duty to pro¬ 
vide a tight roof over the heads of my dependents. I am 
thankful to you for the information, Ella. I promise you 
that it shall not rain again in ‘Smoke-Lena’s’ bed.” 

Supper was now announced. After they had partaken 
of this, all withdrew to the library. 

“What piles and piles of books!” Ella cried. “I won¬ 
der if old Ella’s Bible is on any of the shelves?” 

“Ella, Ella!” scolded her grandmother. “Must you 
continue to pry into everything you see?” 

“I’m glad Ella reminded me of the old Bible,” said Mr. 
Oakwood. “Let us see if we can find it.” 

The large costly Bible, mentioned in Regina von Bie- 
lertz’s diary, occupied a prominent place on the shelves, 
but the other Bible which old Ella had bought—her book 
of magic, as the people of her day considered it—was not 
to be found on the shelves. At last, however, Ella herself 
found a large volume under a pile of modern periodicals 


Ella’s Treasure 169 

in a drawer. 7 he covers were loose and sadly battered, 
giving evidence of hard and careless usage. 

Mr. Oakwood lifted the ancient volume from its place 
of concealment. .Turning to the first blank page, he read 
aloud the following words inscribed on it: 

“ella's treasure, 

GIVEN BY WILL TO ITS PRESENT OWNER, 

REGINA VON BIELERTZ.” 

Ella’s Bible had been found! All gathered around it 
and examined it with keenest interest. Without doubt it 
was old Ella’s reputed book of magic. 

“Victor, see if Lady Regina ever recovered the torn-off 
corner containing Ella’s and her favorite passage,” begged 
Mrs. Oakwood. 

Mr. Oakwood turned to Mt. 16. The page bore 
traces of the mutilation caused by Kitty Prince, and the 
lower corner was still missing. 

“I wonder what became of the little metal box,” some 
one remarked. 

“Perhaps it is still buried under the ruins of the old 
cottage,” suggested Ella. 

“In that case John of Floodhurst would have found it,” 
declared Grandma Catherine. “For I’m sure he dug up 
the whole place searching for Ella’s treasure.” 

“Perhaps God meant for him to find it,” said Aunt 
Anna. “He certainly needed the warning it contained.” 

“But the hour was growing late, and it was time to 
break up. Calling in the servants, Mr. Oakwood read a 
chapter from Ella’s old Bible and invoked the blessing and 
protection of God upon the assembled company. 

Otto rode home in the buggy, the sleeping Esse in his 
arms. Mr. and Mrs. Oakwood, together with their 


Ella’s Treasure 


170 

girls, proposed a boat ride down the river to Fair Point 
cottage. All but Aunt Anna, who was afraid of the 
water, received the suggestion with delight. Conversing 
pleasantly, they made their way past the ironworks where 
the mill-stream roared, hammers crashed, wheels turned, 
and sparks streamed from belching chimneys, all in a 
setting of glaring electric lights. 

When they reached the boathouse, Victor and Marie 
each launched a boat, and invited their guest to enter. 

Ella sat in dreamy silence between her two young 
friends, scarcely giving heed to their merry chatter. 

“Is it permitted to ask what you are thinking about, 
Ella?” asked Mr. Oakwood banteringly. 

“I hardly know, myself,” Ella replied. “It all seems 
so strange to-night in the moonlight. I seem to be living 
in the days of long ago instead of the present.” 

All clapped their hands in delight at the unexpected 
pleasure of having old Ella of Kiln Point with them in 
the boat that evening. 

“I,too, seem strangely transported to bygone days,” said 
Mr. Oakwood, after the merriment had subsided. “But 
instead of feeling older, I feel much younger than I did 
when I rowed here years ago, as I thought for the last 
time. I wonder if there is any one else here whose mem¬ 
ory is as good as mine?” he asked, glancing at his wife, 
who kept pace with him in the other boat. 

By way of answer Marie mischievously splashed water 
over him with her oar. 

On Ragnhild’s Cliff the pines were whispering mysteri¬ 
ously, and in the bright moonlight a wreath of asters could 
be dimly seen on the memorial stone. 

Ella pointed out the stone to her little friends, who 


Ella’s Treasure i 7 i 

now for the first time caught a glimpse of Ragnhild’s 
monument. 

“I’m so happy to know that Lady Ragnhild is with 
Jesus in heaven,” murmured Ella as they shot past the 
weather-beaten monument on the cliff. 

Through a rift in the forest Fair Point cottage now 
came into view. The house was still dark, but near the 
ruins of old Ella’s cottage phosphorescent lights flickered 
over the marshes. Ella called the attention of her friends 
to these, and just as the boat bumped against Fair Point 
landing, she exclaimed fervently: 

“Thank God that old Ella found her treasure, and does 
not have to go searching for it yonder by lantern light! 
I’m so glad that God made me break the drawer in the old 
cabinet!” 


CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
Ellas Treasure. 

It had rained the morning of June 10th, 189-, and the 
eyes of young and old alike had anxiously scanned the 
overcast sky, hoping for a clear day. Toward nine 
o’clock the rain ceased, and presently the clouds parted, 
revealing a bright summer sun. River and lake glittered 
in the sunlight, and all nature seemed washed clean by the 
showers, as if in preparation for some festive occasion. 

Fair Point was greatly changed during the seven years 
that had elapsed since that autumn day when old Ella’s 
treasure was found. 

Otto Leander’s cottage shone in a coat of light paint, an 
addition had -been built to it, and a flagpole towered on 
the lawn before the entrance. In this addition Otto had 


172 


Ella’s Treasure 


his office, and Gertrude a new fine parlor, which Grand¬ 
ma Catherine looked upon with awe, and almost feared 
to enter. 

On the highway and along the lanes leading from the 
surrounding forest groups of men, women and children 
might this morning be seen making their way to Fair 
Point in conveyances of various kinds, or on foot. All 
were headed for the extreme outer projection of Fair 
Point, where an extensive steamboat dock, decked with 
flags and streamers, jutted out into the water. 

Where old Ella’s cottage had once stood, a large, beau¬ 
tiful structure of red brick with white stone trimmings 
now reared its height amidst a parklike setting of lawns, 
flower beds and shrubbery. The building was decorated 
with bunting and flags, and over its main entrance was 
hewn in stone the inscription: 

“ella's treasure.” 

On a bronze tablet by the entrance could be read the 
legend: “Take this child , and nurse it for me.” 

As time passed, the gathering of people grew steadily 
larger. Eager eyes looked, now at the closed doors of the 
new building, now out over the river where it entered the 
lake. 

Otto Leander and his wife Gertrude were on the dock, 
the former leaning on the guard rail, looking with dreamy 
eyes over the waters, the latter passing about with friendly 
greetings for old and young alike. 

Otto Leander had long since laid aside his crutches, but 
he still limped slightly, and was grateful for the support 
of his trusty cane. He was much stouter than when we 
saw him last, and now looked more like a squire than a 
common workman. 


Ella’s Treasure 


173 

Esse, a tall, light-haired and blue-eyed lad of nine, 
much resembled his father, not only in appearance, but 
also in the earnestness and sincerity of his nature. In¬ 
stead of romping with the othef boys he this morning pre¬ 
ferred to stand by his father’s side in tense expectancy. 

Far out on the dock, and concealed by the crowd, stood 
a young man of sober, almost gloomy, aspect. Lost in 
thought, he seemed unconscious of the stir and bustle 
around him. His tall, square figure stooped somewhat, as 
if bodily suffering had laid its heavy hand on him. His 
face was extremely pale, contrasting sharply with his 
black, wavy hair. An air of sadness pervaded his entire 
being, relieved, however, by the light of interest that now 
gleamed from his dark eyes. Despite their difference in 
age, there was a striking resemblance between him and 
Mrs. Oakwood, whose younger brother he might well 
have been considered to be. As a matter of fact he was 
Mrs. Oakwood’s nephew, Carl, who, true to the prophecy 
of Ella, was now restored from the mental depression 
caused by the fire from which Otto Leander had rescued 
him when a boy. 

The sad accident which in boyhood had threatened to 
deprive him of reason had brought about other and hap¬ 
pier changes in his nature. Gone forever now were his 
overbearing pride and his deeply-rooted selfishness. 
Through the wholesome influence of his uncle, Victor 
Oakwood, and through the unfailing devotion of Ella, 
the friend of his childhood, he had by the grace of God 
been led by slow degrees out of the darkness and gloom 
that had enveloped his soul. With the return of his men¬ 
tal powers a spiritual change had also taken place in him. 
Without question or reserve he had accepted as his own 
Ella’s childlike and implicit trust in God. 


Ella’s Treasure 


174 

His mother, the widowed owner of Great Meadows, 
had always had a horror of all that savored of pietism. 
But since the return of Victor, and his marriage to her 
sister Marie, her proud nature had been softened, and 
she made no objections when her son Karl expressed a 
desire to prepare himself for the ministry or some kindred 
service of God and his fellow men. Thus it came about 
that he had now accepted the position of superintendent 
of the new orphan’s home which was to be dedicated this 
day. 

Presently two elderly women came walking down from 
the orphanage to the dock. Many a nod and smile indi¬ 
cated that the subject of their animated conversation was 
a pleasant one. 

The one was our old friend Grandma Catherine, and 
the other the mistress of Great Meadows. Though much 
older, Grandma Catherine seemed the younger of the two. 
Agnes, the mistress of Great Meadows, had aged notice¬ 
ably; her form was bent and her cheeks sunken, but a 
gentle meekness had taken the place of the overbearing 
aspect that before had characterized her. This was the 
first fruit of her son’s glowing zeal in the winning of 
souls for Christ. 

“There comes the Squire!” murmured the expectant 
multitude. 

A beautiful flag-decked naphtha launch came shooting 
down the river from the Manor house, bearing Mr. Oak- 
wood and his seven-year-old Rosa, together with his two 
younger children, Victor and Carl. The coming of the 
launch was greeted by joyful shouts, and the waving of 
caps and handkerchiefs, for the builder and chief patron 
of the new orphanage w T as by this time universally loved 
and respected. And rich and poor had contributed of 


Ella’s Treasure 


175 

their means to the new institution of charity among them. 

Just as the launch made fast to the dock, the deep tone 
of a steamboat whistle was heard across the water, and 
presently a graceful steamer shot out from behind a 
promontory, bearing on its prow in letters of gold the 
name “Marie!’ 

All eyes were fixed on the approaching boat, and a sud¬ 
den silence fell on the multitude. From the dock a sea 
of white handkerchiefs billowed in the air, answered by 
the flutter of four handkerchiefs from the deck of the 
steamer. Mrs. Oakwood and her two eldest daughters, 
Victoria and Vera, had gone to the capital to attend the 
graduation exercises of Ella Leander, and were now 
bringing her back to become the matron of the new or¬ 
phan’s home. 

Though no longer a child, Ella was as frank and open 
as of old. Her two friends, Victoria and Vera, declared 
that they could read her like a book. But to the impul¬ 
siveness of childhood was now added an earnestness of 
purpose and firmness of will that blended curiously with 
the mystic fire that still glowed in her eyes. 

All the four ladies were dressed in white summer 
dresses of simple cut. Mrs. Oakwood was as beautiful 
and stately as of old, though her raven locks were begin¬ 
ning to be interwoven with strands of silver. Vera and 
Victoria were as alike as twins, and inherited much of 
their mother’s beauty. 

When the steamer had made fast and the gangplank 
had been lowered, a dark-eyed young man hastened on 
board to greet Ella; and when they clasped hands, two 
gold rings gleamed in the sunlight. It was common 
knowledge that for a year past these two, Ella Leander 
and Carl Norman, were plighted to each other. Ella’s 


Ella’s Treasure 


176 

sunny, cheerful disposition supplemented and softened the 
sterner and gloomier nature of Carl, while he in turn 
steadied and directed the impulsiveness of his betrothed. 

Many people wondered that Mr. Oakwood ventured 
to intrust a number of neglected and often disorderly 
children to the care of this morose man. But when his 
wife anxiously asked him concerning the advisability of 
doing this, he replied: 

“For a time, I must confess, I was in doubt as to Carl’s 
fitness for the position. But the more I have observed 
him in his intercourse with children in the Sunday school 
and in the community at large, the more convinced I am 
that his influence on them will be as spiritually whole¬ 
some as their influence on him will be mentally bracing 
and cheering. Strange as it may seem, all children eagerly 
flock to him, and he in turn brightens wonderfully in 
their company.” 

When happy greetings had been exchangedon the dock, 
all prepared to march up to the new home, whose first 
contingent of orphaned children was impatiently waiting 
for the festivities to begin. 

Strange feelings filled Ella’s heart as she walked along 
the path leading to the place where old Ella’s cottage had 
once stood. The path itself was now broad and smooth, 
and bordered with shrubbery; and the site of the ruined 
cottage was transformed into a thing of beauty w O, that 
old Ella now might look down from heaven upon the 
spot shunned for centuries by her fellow beings as a place 
of ill repute, where the powers of darkness, had held sway, 
but now consecrated as a haven of refuge for defenseless 
little ones—how her tender heart would have rejoiced at 
the sight! 


Ella’s Treasure 177 

Ella’s childhood’s dream was now realized. When the 
assembled multitude gathered before the main entrance to 
the home, Ella’s eyes were filled with tears of joy and 
gratitude. Before her rose the new home where she 
would reign as mistress. Farther up on the Point lay her 
old home, surrounded by flowering trees and bushes. 
When she turned her eyes toward Ragnhild’s Cliff, she 
could just make out in the distance the memorial stone 
with its wreaths of evergreen and flowers. No place in 
all the world was half so beautiful as her own dear Fair 
Point with its tender memories of childhood days! 

Now the great double doors flew open, and a group of 
forty boys and girls appeared, and took their places on the 
broad veranda. Two little three-year-old tots were led by 
a nurse, while another nurse carried a child of one year in 
her arms. The faces and figures of most of them bore 
traces of under-nourishment and neglect. Now, however, 
their faces were wreathed in smiles, and a look of pathetic 
wonder shone out of their eyes. 

Ella, “the happy cry-baby,” as her mother called her on 
account of her propensity to cry when she was happiest, 
was moved to tears by the sight before her. In her secret 
heart she again dedicated herself to the temporal and 
spiritual welfare of these little ones. So moved was she, 
that she scarcely caught the words of the song the chil¬ 
dren sang in honor and welcome of their new “mama.” 
After the song she had a word of greeting for each and 
every one of them, not even forgetting the child in arms. 

Thereupon the doors were thrown open, and the peo¬ 
ple streamed in to inspect che new home. 

A bent and withered old man with squinting eyes and 
straggling gray hair acted as master of ceremonies, and 
evinced surprising skill in answering all kinds of questions 
Ella’s Treasure . 12 . 


Ella’s Treasure 


178 

regarding the various details of arrangement and fur¬ 
nishing. In honor of the occasion he was dressed in 
black, with a white necktie around his high collar. He 
was the newly appointed janitor of the home, and Ella 
was sure that she had seen him before somewhere. 

“Don’t you remember the old “Idler,” Miss Ella? 
The one you used to be so afraid of when he came to your 
house fiddling on his old violin.” 

“O!” cried Ella, in pleased surprise. “Are you the 
Idler who knew so much about old Ella and her treas¬ 
ure?” 

“The very one, Miss Ella. And now the old wander¬ 
ing fiddler has found a home under Ella’s roof, after hav¬ 
ing become partaker of Ella’s heavenly treasure.” 

This was indeed a glad surprise to Ella. But before 
she could exchange further words with her old acquaint¬ 
ance, Mr. Oakwood led her into the large school-room 
suitably decorated for the festivities of the day. Below 
the teacher’s desk in one end of the room stood a small 
stand on which rested an ornamental case with a glass top. 

At a sign from Mr. Oakwood Ella hurried forward to 
see what the case contained. She saw a large old book 
with worn leather covers and brass clasps, and on the book 
a small metal box. 

“Ella’s Bible! And O, Uncle Victor, is that the metal 
box we read about in Lady Regina’s diary?” 

Opening the box, Mr. Oakwood took from it a bit of 
yellow paper and handed it to Ella. It was the missing 
corner torn from old Ella’s Bible by Kitty Prince. 

“Tell me, Uncle Victor, who found the metal box?” 

“I suppose you are peeved because there are others be¬ 
sides yourself who can bring to light hidden things,” re¬ 
marked Mr. Oakwood, with a smile. 


Ella’s Treasure 


179 


“Come, Uncle, tell us about it.” 

“That bit of paper had another mission to perform be¬ 
fore it was restored to its proper place,” said Mr. Oak- 
wood earnestly. “But we mustn’t linger here, for they 
are expecting us at the coffee tables. I’ll tell you the 
story of that bit of paper as we go along. 

“On the morning when the laborers came to begin dig¬ 
ging for the foundation of the new home, old John Flood 
of Floodhurst also presented himself with pick and shovel. 
This surprised me, for I thought him too old to volunteer 
for the work, as many of the others were doing. But be¬ 
fore I could speak to him about it he came to me and said: 

“ ‘Squire Victor’—he always calls me by my first name 
—‘I am old and feeble, and not able to do much digging. 
But let me dig the first few shovels of dirt; then I’ll leave 
it to the rest who are of more account than I.’ 

“ ‘Old people know best,’ I replied, wondering what 
the old man was thinking of. ‘I’ll be glad to have you 
turn the first sod.’ 

“ ‘Boys,’ I said, addressing the other men; ‘we will let 
John Flood begin. Perhaps some good will come of it.’ 

“The men smiled on the sly, but the old man began to 
dig with surprising strength, throwing the dirt to right 
and left until he had dug quite a hole. Finally he stooped 
down and picked up something that glittered in the sun¬ 
light. The men crowded forward to see what it was, but 
I suspected the truth at once. 

“Throwing away his spade, the old man handed me the 
box, saying: 

“ ‘Squire Victor, here is a part of old Ella’s treasure. I 
have had it in my hands before, but then I thought it some 
black magic of Ella’s, and buried it again as fast as I 
could. But the words on that scrap of paper I couldn’t 


i8o 


Ella’s Treasure 


get rid of so easily. For years they were as a dagger 
piercing my heart, but now they have done their work, 
and I, a poor old wreck of a man, have found Ella’s 
heavenly treasure at last. Take the box and place it in 
the new home; perhaps the words will give others some¬ 
thing to think about. I’m through digging now. God 
bless you all. Good-bye!’ ” 

All was life and animation on Fair Point that day. 
Under spreading shade trees stood long tables groaning 
under their burdens of good things to eat. Young girls 
flitted here and there, giving the final touches to the prep¬ 
arations for the feast which Mr. Oakwood was giving to 
the entire community in honor of the dedication of the 
new orphan’s home. 

Old John Flood of Floodhurst was there, leaning on 
the arm of his still robust wife. At a nod from Mrs. 
Oakwood he sat down by her side and entered into a spir¬ 
ited conversation with her. No longer did her words fill 
his heart with terror, as once long years before, in Fair 
Point cottage. No longer did words of doom reach him 
from the ruins of old Ella’s cottage. After a long life of 
bondage in the fetters of mammon, the old man rejoiced 
in the freedom won for him through the blood-bought pur¬ 
chase of Jesus Christ. The words of a song the children 
were singing from the veranda of the new home struck a 
responsive chord in his heart: 

“Redeemed; redeemed! 

O, sing the joyful strain! 

Give praise; give praise 
And glory to His name 
Who gave His blood our souls to save, 

And purchased freedom for the slave. 

Redeemed, O, praise the Lord!” 





Ella’s Treasure 181 

On a bench apart, Otto Leander and Carl Norman sat 
engaged in earnest conversation. These two men were 
kindred spirits, both being serious and contemplative by 
nature. Grandma Catherine jestingly said that Carl was 
Otto’s Benoni—“son of my sorrow”—but Otto main¬ 
tained stoutly that Carl was his Benjamin—“son of the 
right hand.” As for Carl Norman, he could never forget 
what Otto Leander had suffered for his sake, and it was 
his earnest desire to repay, in part at least, the debt of 
gratitude he owed him. 

Ella sat drinking her coffee in company with Vera and 
Victoria when the old “Idler” approached, and upon 
Ella’s invitation sat down at the same table with them. 
The old man was profuse in his thanks for the honor 
shown him, and his wrinkled old face shone with pleasure. 

“Tell me, my dear ‘Idler’,” Ella asked, “what has 
brought about such a marked change in your life.” 

“That I will, Miss Ella,” he replied; “and I’m sure it 
will do your heart good to hear about it. Are you ac¬ 
quainted with all the speakers who are to appear on the 
program to-day?” 

“I know most of them, I think,” Ella replied. 

“How about that black-haired young man talking with 
your father?” the Idler asked, sending her a sly look un¬ 
der his bushy eyebrows. 

“Him I know best of all,” said Ella, looking him 
calmly in the eyes. 

“So you do,” replied the old man with the glimmer of 
a smile. “Well, he was conducting a prayer meeting at 
the works about a year ago. Along came a ragged old 
man with a fiddle under his arm and a whisky bottle in 
his pocket. Usually some door has always stood open for 
the Idler, but this night all the people seemed to have gone 


82 


Ella’s Treasure 


to the prayer meeting. The old man looked at his rags, and 
decided that if they were good enough for a cottage they 
were good enough for a chapel. So he entered and sat 
down in a corner. Such a night the Idler had never had 
in all his life! When the meeting was over and he slunk 
out of the chapel, he came face to face with the speaker of 
the evening. What passed the next two hours of that 
dark night is too sacred for words. But the result was 
that the whisky bottle was sent crashing against a rock, 
and Carl Norman pleaded with God for a degraded 
drunkard until the Heavenly Father opened His arms to 
press a ragged prodigal to His breast. The squire, God 
bless him, took me under his protection, gave me some odd 
jobs to do; and when the new home was ready, he ap¬ 
pointed me janitor. And now the poor old Idler has 
only to live his few remaining days relying on God’s 
abounding grace and mercy. 

“But you may depend on the old man to do his duty, 
Miss Ella,” he said in closing. “His eyes are sharp even 
if they are small, and there is still some strength left in 
his arms for honest work.” 

Ella’s shining eyes had rested on the old man when he 
spoke, and when he ended she took his wrinkled old hand 
in hers, and said: 

“We’ll work together, dear friend, and try to make 
Ella’s Treasure as fruitful as possible.—Grandma, come 
here. Our old friend, the Idler, wants to shake hands 
with you.” 

“He will have to wait until some other time,” cried 
Grandma Catherine. “I must get a bite to eat before the 
dedication exercises begin.” 

At the appointed hour the people filled the large school- 


Ella’s Treasure 183 

room and the adjoining rooms to overflowing, all eager 
to hear the speaking and take part in the exercises. 

The first speaker centered his remarks upon the passage 
inscribed on the bronze tablet: “Take this child , and 
nurse it for me.” Several other speakers made short 
talks, whereupon the well-trained parish choir sang an 
appropriate anthem, followed by a song by the children 
of the home: 

“Rich treasures in God’s Word abound; 

Seek them while they may be found, 

Seek them till you find them.” 

Thereafter Mr. Oakwood, the founder of the home, 
bade the children welcome to their new home, in the name 
of Christian charity, and in His name who said: “Suffer 
the little children to come unto me; forbid them not: for 
to such belongeth the kingdom of heaven.” 

Then he proceeded to tell the listening children how 
their new home came to be called “Ella’s Treasure.” 
Many years ago a little girl found a hidden treasure, 
which became rightly her own. But she did not want to 
keep it for herself, so she gave it back to God to be used 
in building a home for poor, orphaned children. The 
little girl, however, did not only give her treasure, but she 
also consecrated herself with all her gifts and powers to 
the service of the little ones who were to find a home in 
“Ella’s Treasure.” 

Then Mr. Oakwood introduced Ella Leander to the 
children as their new “Mama,” and bespoke for her their 
unfailing love and obedience. 

With burning cheeks and shining eyes Ella then ad¬ 
dressed the children, herself a child among her little 
charges, and instantly winning their wholehearted love 
and loyalty. Simply and touchingly she spoke to them on 
the Saviour’s words: “Even so it is not the will of your 
Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones 
should perish.” 

Then followed the act of dedication, after which the 
exercises closed with a beautiful song by the choir. 


Ella’s Treasure 


184 

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the people began to depart, 
with many a secret resolve to embrace the new home with 
loving interest, and to contribute loyally to its support. 

Mrs. Oakwood had invited her nearest friends and 
relatives to take dinner at the Manor. So, boarding the 
launch, they sped up the river and spent a pleasant after¬ 
noon in Marie Oakwood’s beautiful home. Ella and Carl 
stole away by themselves, as lovers are wont to do. Marie 
and Gertrude put their heads together to plan the fur¬ 
nishing of Carl and Ella’s apartment at the new home. 

This day, like all the other days, came to an end at last, 
and through the bright summer night Mr. Oakwood again 
brought his guests down the river in his launch to the 
Fair Point landing. Ella and Carl sat silently watching 
the beauty of the night. Near at hand towered Ragn- 
hild’s Cliff with its stone monument gleaming in the 
moonlight. In the distance loomed the stately building 
of the orphanage. Almost, so it seemed to the lovers, they 
could read the golden inscription over the main entrance: 

“ella’s treasure.” 

“How silent and thoughtful you are, Ella,” Mr. Oak- 
wood remarked. “Perhaps you are recalling a night 
seven years ago when you were transported in spirit to the 
days of Lady Ragnhild and old Ella.” 

“What a glorious-night it was!” Ella exclaimed. “I 
will never regret that I broke the drawer of the old cabi¬ 
net. My real life seems to begin with that day.” 

“But what about this night?” asked Carl, with one of 
his rare smiles, as he leaned forward to look into her eyes. 

She met his gaze bravely and frankly as of old, and 
said softly: . 

“This night is still more glorious, for it marks the cul¬ 
mination of my fondest hopes. This night Ella’s Treas¬ 
ure spreads its protecting roof over a flock of the Good 
Shepherd’s little lambs. May Lady Ragnhild and old 
Ella ever be kept in grateful remembrance by us all!” 






















































I 


* 





~\i i ^ 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



m 
m 
m 
m 

IS 

■rnk&m 
HSU., 



































